Stories of Delhi and of trust

On our first day in Delhi all 14 of us rented a bus to hit the main sights. We got a an overview of famous buildings, but not a feel for the city- so the next day three of us went off on our own. After seeing the Lotus Temple and beautiful Lodi gardens, I got to wander around the theater and arts district. From there we went to see the large mosque, and that’s when it got more adventurous.

Our cycle rickshaw dropped us off a block away because the streets were so crowded. After missing the turn we should have taken, we ended up in the “thieves market”, where your shoes will end up if they get stolen while you are in a temple, among various other stolen goods. When we got re-routed towards the mosque we still had to go through a crowded street, where a gang of boys followed us, ready to snatch something from our bags the minute we became distracted by the goods being sold. So as we clutched our bags and made our way through the darkening market street, we saw people selling, yelling, quickly scrutinizing and buying, begging, living, eating, sewing, arguing, scheming, biking, and kids running.

After a glimpse at the mosque we bee-hived to the first well-lit shop we could find on the main street. At this point we were the only foreigners around; we always get stares and unwanted attention but now it was three-fold. As we stood in the entrance of this shoe store, various people would try to come near to talk, stare, beg, or take pictures of us- but the store owner shooed (no pun intended) them all away for us. He even cleared off the bench inside for us to sit on, which we declined because certainly we’d have to tip him. (People will often sweep first or hand you a newspaper first, then after the fact will demand payment.) But 20 minutes later, after we had gotten our bearings and decided on a restaurant and how best to get there, we tried to tip the store owner anyway because he had been so helpful. No matter how much we insisted, he wouldn’t accept it! In a country where my sense of “common courtesy” has little weight and where every rickshaw driver and store owner will try to charge us at least twice the actual price, this simple gesture of kindness to complete strangers meant a lot to us.

Alas, the next day reminded us that we should not expect this same courtesy from everyone. After our train to Agra was delayed two hours, our single day there was already shortened. So we spent two hours walking around the Taj Mahal and just sitting and enjoying the view. We then told our auto-rickshaw drivers, who we had hired for the day, that we had limited time and wanted to go to an inexpensive restaurant. They didn’t take us to the one we requested, but a different one. Even though we knew they’d probably get commission for taking us to their friend’s business we decided to give it a try; they had been very friendly and helpful to us. Unfortunately, after ordering it took two hours (in an empty restaurant) before we even received our lukewarm and tasteless food. Our time was up in Agra. We were bummed that we didn’t see anything other than the Taj and disappointed in our drivers who we had come to trust, but of course it was still well worth the trip to see the Taj. Can you imagine someone building all that splendor for one woman?

As anywhere, there are people to trust and those to be wary of; perhaps I’m just more aware of it here because I’m not familiar with the cultural codes and norms that dictate relationship. Our taxi driver yesterday got stopped and a little beat up by men from another car who thought that our driver was trying to race them and that he intentionally tried to block their way. Although it was at first terrifying to me, people who live here understood immediately why that would have happened and didn’t think it was a big deal. (I’ll now be more thankful for the cops who dot the US Highways…) But overall, I have met amazing people. A young woman I met on a bus and one I met in the Kathak dance classes I’ve been taking (I got to teach a little ballet and jazz to the students, too!) have both made me feel like a part of their entire family. The church here has been a family to me and of course my host family too. As I wrap up my time here I am excited to see family and friends back home, but it’s hard to realize that spending time with my friends and “family” here will no longer be possible.