The reasons to travel were not clear to me. The rational behind my choice of destination less clear. Driving my decision to undertake this cultural upheaval was a need to discover life. 2007 had been an arduous year for me. I was buckling under the weight of my own expectations. Mentally and spiritually i was at a low ebb - really in the doldrums. I believed Travelling would act as a tonic to engender a much needed love for life and humanity. Of all the places: India, and to travel solo. Bereft of any real knowledge or appreciation of its culture i ignorantly signed up. In my mind it would be a whirlwind of adventure and excitement. My foresight was critically flawed; i hadn't an inkling what i was really letting myself in for. If i had possessed a clear understanding of my endeavour to come i doubt i would have gone. Rereading the emails i sent to people whilst in India fills me full of inspiration and pride. I can look back and admire that i'm more durable than i believed myself to be.
I arrived in Delhi, 05/09/09. Almost everyone who has ever experienced the Indian capital will tell you with great fervency how awful the city is. My introduction was a 3am taxi ride from the airport to my hotel. Everything seemed so surreal and alive; my every sense stimulated. The death-defying driving culture, the packs of dogs roaming the streets, the heat and its humid smell, the vast legions of homeless people asleep on the pavements - i was in a very different country. The poverty was intense. The dogs, the people, the buildings - all aspects of life seemed to suffer from neglect and malnutrition My taxi stopped, i wanted to keep going. I had hoped we might drive beyond all this misery.
For reasons unbeknown to me i had booked a room at a hotel in Old Delhi. From dust Old Delhi emerged and to dust it was returning, it was in some sort irremediable entropy. I felt fearful. This was the wild unknown. After sleeping for a few hours i stepped out on to the street to see India under the light of day. The anxiety of those first few moments shattered my nerves. All eyes were on me. Penetrating stares scrutinized my every movement and inflection. After a while a degree of calm descended within me. Old Delhi was benign. Curious they were, but i was of no real concern to its people. Poverty dictated they had bigger and more important things to worry about. Most remarkable was the perseverance i witnessed. Any scrap of material was a valuable resource; our rubbish were their tools, their shelters and their homes.
New Delhi, by comparison, had order and structure; the buildings more were robust, and the electrical wiring looked less like a canopy of Amazonian vine branches. Unlike Old Delhi, life seemed more buoyant and less likely to sigh a final breath of resignation before collapsing into a heap , 'I might get to like this place yet', i distinctly remember thinking before I found myself to be walking from one scam to another - quite literally. In the Lonely Planet (the travellers bible, or ball and chain) there is a list of scams to be wary of around Connaught square (the main shopping hub). I was got by the shit on the shoe scam (a kind man who smears excrement onto your shoe, claiming it to be the dirty work of birds and offers to clean it for a nominal fee), next came the man who offered to clean my ear canals with needles (bad idea if you like your ear drums), then finally came the helpful youth who wanted to befriend me to 'practise his English' - apparently a commission shark. All operating within 100 meters on one another, it was like running an unnerving bullshit obstacle course. The guest-house i stayed in, run by Kashmiris, urged me to visit a local travel agent to discuss where i might want to go next. Coincidentally also run by Kashmiris, the travel agent tenaciously pressed me into visiting their homeland. He serenaded me overtures of faux friendship and the like. Were these scam artists in telepathic communication? Every step seemed to draw them closer. Paranoia breeds paranoia. Who was watching me? who wasn't! The whole of Delhi seemed to be in on this one. With great urgenecy i wanted to leave the city, before the net snared me for a keeper. I quickly adopted the mantra 'Trust no one'. This became my mantra for India. Trust no one and suspect everyone. I escaped Delhi, though i was stung by a supposed government travel agency. But hell i was moving on. The morning i attempted to check out of the guest house i found my path was blocked. Phone calls were made. The Kashmiri travel agents were banking on my nativity. I'd fucked over their pay-day. 'i don't want to speak to you...' was all he said on the phone. Bye bye.
I felt like a hunted animal in New Delhi. Everyone wanted a piece of the action. The scams were a real piece of work. Real intelligence and meticulous effort had been applied to their craft, Confusing the line between honesty and deceit. I suppose in a way Delhi wasn't a bad place to start, it had me on my feet in no time. It teaches you to be sharp, to be suspicious. But paranoia and mistrust can be ruinous. I guess that's why intuition is a fine and necessary tool to possess
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