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| ASIA - INDIA: THREE CITIES - THREE ERAS by Susan McKee ![]() Welcome to India, where life in all its forms is all around, day and night. On my first visit to this vast subcontinent I had time to visit just three cities in Northern India: Delhi, Agra and Varanasi places encapsulating three eras in Indian history. In Delhi, the remains of the Raj are all around, from the austere architecture of British colonial-era buildings atop Parliament Hill to the massive India Gate, now watching over soccer matches rather than bearing witness to foreign occupation. Heading east to Agra means moving back in time, to the period of Mughal domination. Centerpiece, of course, is the Taj Mahal, a mausoleum built by a king for his favorite wife. Further east, and still further back in time, is Varanasi, said to be the oldest continuously inhabited place in the world (the British called it Benares). Here, on the banks of the "mother river", the Ganges, the Hindu faithful atone for their sins and reverence the gods as they have for millennia. Before I went, worried family and friends told me I’d be overwhelmed by the sights and smells, appalled by the pervasive poverty and frightened by the unknown at every turn. None of that was true. I found the sights endlessly fascinating and the smells delicious. (No, sorry, there was no pervasive stench of animals or refuse - even though the temperatures were in the 90s when I visited, and the air pollution is no worse than traffic-clogged Los Angeles.) Despite undeniable material poverty, the people I saw were rich in culture and tradition. And I wasn’t afraid at all. Now that I’m back home, I remain intensely curious about this vast country and its endless variety. Where else can you view Muhammad’s fossilized footprint one day, and walk in the footsteps of the Buddha the next? Only in India are you likely to be asked for a contribution towards the annual celebration of a Hindu goddess’ festival, to watch a tailor stitching on a treadle-operated sewing machine next to a public Internet-access site, or hear a half-dozen languages spoken in the course of one day remaining confident that almost everyone’s second language is English! Despite the sacred cows, bicycles, oxen, trucks, dogs, taxis, buses, goats, cars, rickshaws and masses of people, the streets were always cleaner than downtown Indianapolis after a major sporting event. Traffic, which first appeared chaotic, seemed to flow with an almost organic rhythm, oblivious of western "rules of the road". I saw only one accident a minor fender-bender. The food Ah! The food was wonderful. Although the temptations of the ubiquitous street vendor were many, I stuck to established restaurants to avoid health hazards. There were counterfeit Western bistros catering to tourists, but who wants to eat Indian versions of American or European food when the local cuisine is so fabulous? Now that I’m home, I miss having poori bhaji for breakfast (Indian bread with a potato-pea curry) and I definitely have tandoori chicken withdrawal. Because I had only one day in Delhi, I decided to set up a custom tour. I made arrangements with the representative of India Tourism and Development, conveniently located in the hotel lobby. The price? Less than a New York Gray Line tour! My guide, who spoke flawless English, directed our taxi driver everywhere I wanted to go, from temple to monument and back again finishing up at a dressmaking shop to be measured for a shalwar kamiz (tunic-pants-scarf outfit) like hers. It was delivered to the hotel desk the next morning, and I’ve enjoyed wearing it back home again in Indiana (it confuses the natives!). In Agra, the taxi driver from the airport became my driver for all three days. Along with his friend who served as guide, we saw everything in town (including the Taj Mahal -- twice). We went into Rajasthan to visit Bharatpur Bird Sanctuary, stopover for countless species on their way south from Siberia and central Asia and wandered Fatehpur Sikri, an entire city built in the late 16th century by a Mughal emperor and now abandoned. I did the same thing in Varanasi, except the taxi driver I engaged at the airport doubled as my guide. It was festival time in the ancient Hindu city, 10 days dedicated to the patron goddess, Durga (celebrating her victory over the bull demon). Civic and religious organizations throughout the city erect temporary structures to house elaborate dioramas of the battle. My driver/guide was part of a group that put up a bamboo and fabric "building" modeled on a lotus-shaped temple in Delhi. Inside was a two-story tall room lit with chandeliers and wall sconces. All attention was focused on the diorama until I walked in (the only non-Indian). Making a contribution seemed the least I could do to repay him for including me in an event I’d never experience in Indianapolis. I was surprised to learn that the elaborate, larger than life-size figures of ten-armed Durga, her tiger-pulled chariot and the monstrous bull demon opponent she vanquished would, like all the specially made painted plaster figures in temporary temples throughout the city, be consigned to the Ganges at the end of the festival. The Ganges River is the reason for Varanasi’s sacred draw for Hindus worldwide. Bathing in the "mother of rivers" is said to wash away several lifetimes of sins. My guide hired a boatman to row me along the banks as the sun came up, bathing the ghats (sets of steps leading to the water) in misty light. There was a constant stream of people in and out of the water, bathing and praying from before dawn. And, yes, there are cremations, too, but here in India death is seen as the opposite of birth, not the opposite of life. Life continues. Speaking of water, no, I didn’t drink what came out of the tap. I bought sealed bottles readily available even on the street and had iodine tablets for water emergencies (which didn’t happen). Of course I avoided ice, and washed my hands often. I also carried lots of pre-moistened towelettes and that waterless hand cleaner, which I always used before eating and whenever I thought I might have come in contact with something, well, strange. My caution paid off: I never got sick. Not once. All this is not to say that traveling in India is just like traveling in Indiana. I never encountered one of the legendary pit toilets, but I was glad I brought a roll of toilet paper. Once or twice I actually had to use it because there wasn’t any. But that’s not really a catastrophe, is it? I can’t wait to go back. (Susan McKee, an historian by training, takes off for her travels from her home in Indianapolis.) Photo courtesy Uttar Pradesh Tourism SCRIBBLES ETCETERAS India requires a visa for most tourists, so start your travel plans with the nearest Indian embassy or consulate. Hoosiers go to the Chicago consulate, 455 North Cityfront Plaza Drive, Suite 850, Chicago, Ill. 60611; (312) 595-0405, FAX (312) 595-0416. There are many ways to get to Delhi. I went via Seoul and Bangkok to get the lowest fare, but there also are non-stop flights from several North American cities, including Chicago (via Lufthansa). Shop around for the combination of time-in-transit and price that’s best for you. |
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