India 2005
By: Nancy Barbee
A Personal Journey

Delhi

It was a soft sweet sound like a gentle breeze caressing your neck on a summer evening. It felt like the tide rushing against your feet ending up in a shallow pool. It began as a thundering roar yet ended as a whisper that only two hearts can hear. The slow beating sound that says, “I am India. Come into my arms.”

I was there again and the faces haunt me even more than before. The faces of the children on the streets that grab your hand as you pass, begging for food. The hollow eyed women that hold no hope for a different life. Yet among all this turmoil and crowded madness lies the beginning of the world, the very essence of life itself. This is my India. It is here where my truth lies.

The journey began outside Delhi. A place called Gurgaon which is a small suburb outside the city center. The new development touts malls and large gated communities like their western counterparts. The flavor may be a copy of the west but it is still India and outside the luscious green gardens and posh swimming pools lay the shanty town huts and graveled dirt roads. Outside, the children run to you with their fingers touching their lips. A sign meaning, “I am hungry. Give me some money to buy food.” But you don’t dare because you aren’t sure where the money will end up or how many others will flock to you to beg so you walk on silently acknowledging their hunger but feeling overwhelmed with grief.

Joe was there to reach me and our reunion was one of fond memories and a familiarity that we both find comforting. It seems so long ago that I was here the first time. Five years have passed since my son Bryce and I traveled here for Christmas with the whole Barrett clan. Joe seemed so young then but an old soul that made it easy for us to connect.

We chatted about my flight and our families on our way home. He was surprised that I was impressed with the service on Air India and said he had heard they had improved due to competition by the many airlines cropping up in India and more and more connections that had become direct flights to Delhi from major western cities. Competition is a good thing sometimes. So on we traveled into the night reaching Gurgaon around midnight. That may sound late but for Indian families, even the children are awake until the early morning hours. AH! The smell of parathas, fried rice, and biryhani filtered through my veins as the aroma hit my nose.

Delhi was foggy and cold but Sharon and Clarence made me comfortable in my room before serving tea. Lancey was there which was a complete surprise and I was happy to see him again. He was visiting in Delhi and picking up his father to take him home to Dhanbad for the holidays. Angela and Christopher came in after work so all of us had a chance to visit before hitting the sack. Oh, I got to hold Sharon and Clarence’s new baby boy, Joshua. He is a darling but had a slight cold which kept his mama up most of the night. I slept like a log though.

Joe took me around the apartment complex the next day. I still get amazed at the bamboo ladders the builders use to climb up the side of the tall apartments. They tie the long bamboo poles together to make scaffolding and then scale the outside hull of the building to haul up mortar, paint, and any other supply they need. As is typical, the apartments are made entirely of marble. The floors, walls, and ceilings are all marble. How cool it makes the rooms in the summer but oh so cold and chilly in the winter. My feet don’t really thaw out until I am tucked into bed under the heavy woolen blankets.

From a distance we can see some men swimming and bathing in a large pool. These are the workers that build the huge highrise apartments. Most of them live in the huts close to the building and have to find somewhere to wash so they use a common pool.

The dust and smog is thick and my eyes burn and my nose constantly runs. It seems worse this trip and I will learn that due to the fog, many domestic flights will be delayed and canceled. I am surprised to learn since my last visit a year ago, Gurgaon has shopping malls now. Joe took me to two of them and they were very nice but tended to cater to foreigners. Prices in the Sahara Mall were reasonable and I found a lovely leather jacket for Bryce that was good quality but inexpensive. After calling him on the phone though, I decided against buying it. The Metopoliatan Mall was a bit more upscale and most of the stores were pricey. Joe took me out to dinner in this mall. There is a movie theater showing the latest feature films from the west. Many restaurants on each floor of the three stories entice hungry shoppers. We had a lovely Italian meal. Can you image that? And get this, Joe told me that Wal-Mart is coming to India. I hope it is there next year when I visit. I am dying to see a Wal-Mart Indian style.

I asked Joe to take me downtown Delhi to Conaught Place to the market. Here are street vendors and the things to buy are all local made. I prefer the local markets to the malls because this is the real India. The India that is near to my heart and one that I fear will someday be lost. You can find marble elephants, incense, leather goods, silk ties and purses, and wall hangings for only a few dollars. The art of bargaining is expected and it becomes more like a sport than a hassle. Tucked among the shops are tailors that will measure you and make saris on the spot. The silk material is exquisite and as soft as only silk can be on the skin. As local tailors cut and sculpt the clothes, the dye makers boil vegetables to extract the juice then mix them to procure the desired color. They dye the material to match any occasion or other outfit you may have. If you are getting married, there are tattoo artists that paint intricate designs on hands, arms, and feet. The henna artwork is so detailed yet these men and women paint them quickly. Joe took me to a jazz restaurant which reminded me of small smokey pubs in London or New York. The food was great. I got tacos but still Indian style with a lot of spices added. This was all new and different. One can tell that India is preparing more and more for the changes taking place in the country.

There are the specialty stores that are clean and have places for customers to sit. Indians love to travel so there are many Samsonite stores and other stores that sell suitcases and bags. Those who can afford to travel take everything they own with them so the suitcases are huge. My friends that live in foreign places but go back to India on holidays even carry food they have cooked. Sylvia took a whole British Christmas dinner along last year to Goa. I can’t say I was sorry she did that actually but I am glad I have learned to travel a bit lighter. It makes sense when it is only me that has to carry my bags. Now that I think about it though, there seem to be a multitude of young taxi drivers around me when I disembark to whisk me away so I don’t think I need to worry too much. I will continue to pack lighter just in case.

Only two days I had with Joe, Sharon, Clarence and the children but it was ok because I was home. Joe broke the news to me that he would not be in Delhi on my return but was leaving for England as a surprise for his mom and dad before the New Year. His much fought for and awaited work visa to the UK had been long in coming but finally had arrived about a month before my visit. The fight had been a gruesome one but just when he stopped caring if it came or not, the battle was won. I told him that I would stay in a hotel on my way back to catch my flight since Sharon and Clarence would be in Deheradun visiting family for the New Year. Christopher would bring the bag I was leaving behind and also pick up my mobile phone to deliver back to Luv.

Early morning arrived and we headed to the airport. The fog was as thick as I have ever seen and you literally could not see a foot in front of you. The driver must have known the road in his sleep because that is the only way he made it to the airport without running into something or someone. We did reach in plenty of time but the flight was delayed due to the fog. That would mean I would miss my connection in Hyderabad. Now that was an ordeal I will never forget but one that will show you once again, how blessed I am. There is much more to come so stayed tuned. On to District Conference in Bhubaneswar.