India - Holi and Goodbye!
By Red Sox Steve
Delhi
The overnight Rajdhani Express (#2951, runs every day of the week) was an excellent trip! I was in 2AC/Sleeper, which meant I had a reserved seat in a shared, semi-private, 4 person compartment that turned into a bunk at night (blankets and pillows provided). The food was tasty and served promptly, the automated announcements were a nice touch, and, most importantly, we kept to the schedule. It was hard to believe this was my transition home - since I left JFK a month ago, each destination was new. Up to now, everything I had learned and discovered was still yet to be, but now I was returning to the one place that was familiar - New Delhi. Even though this city of over 10 million was essentially the same, my understanding of India had improved by leaps and bounds.
When I arrived a month ago, I stayed in a section of New Delhi called Connaught Place; wanting something new this time, I found a place in another area, called Paharganj. I got off the train, and it was only a short walk from the station to my hotel. Little did I know, though, what I was getting myself into.
When I arrived a month ago from New York, I was more of a tourist than an explorer - I had hired a car and driver to take me all around the city; we covered a lot of ground, and I saw the popular sights. Now, things were different. My confidence and knowledge were higher, and the unique experience of being somewhere familiar in a foreign country was both an adrenaline rush and an ego boost. No worries, though, after I got settled in at my hotel, I wandered around and quickly got lost... :)
I decided, in spite of being slightly unaware of where I was going, to adhere to my itinerant ways - it was a Sunday afternoon, and the pedestrian and foot traffic was light. I made my way to Connaught Place, mainly to see if I could find my way around, get a newspaper, have lunch, and maybe go to the movies. Unfortunately, there was only one movie playing which didn't interest me, so I got my paper, had some Thai food, and headed back to the hotel - sure, there were some things I wanted to do in Delhi, but I just wasn't up to it. I spent an afternoon in the internet cafe, catching up on uploading photos and taking it easy. Besides, it seemed like many of the local businesses were closed, further reducing activity on the streets.
When I made it back to my hotel in time for dinner, I got some surprising news: the next day, my final one in India, was the Holi festival. Holi is predominantly a Hindu & Sikh festival, with a variety of religious origins, involving the passage into spring. One of the primary rituals performed during the observation of this holiday is the throwing of colored powder and water balloons on everyone you see. In other words, I knew that I was going to have one heck of a day just being out on the street! This helps explain why on Sunday, which was the first day of Holi, many stores were closed; on Monday, even more shops had shuttered... except for those that sold the bags of colored dust everyone wanted to smear and throw over everyone else.
The next morning, after a shower and some breakfast, I wandered out of my hotel - THWAP! - a water balloon flew right by me and exploded on the street. There were people throwing dust at each other, wishing each other a "Happy Holi", and smearing gobs of yellow, green, purple, blue and red dust all over each other's clothes, bags, faces, and hair. I wasn't happy taking on the role of innocent victim - I wanted to "play Holi" (as that is what it is called) and find others to paint with my dust.
Paharganj is made up of both wide, straight alleyways and windy, narrow ones. Four to five story buildings line each alley, and if you look on the ground, you can see puddles and splash marks... which means children (and adults) are lurking on the balconies and rooftops, waiting for their next target. I meandered around, intent on avoiding balloons, but had no illusions: I bought these bags of dust for a reason and didn't want to have them at the end of the day. I wasn't the only tourist getting in on the fun. Everyone on the street was going in different directions, trying to avoid the roaming bands of children intent on cornering some poor soul. I had to keep a look out above me, or I'd get hit with a water balloon or get a bucket of water poured on me.
I thought just a day's notice before I would get covered in dust and water was shocking enough, but then I saw the unsuspecting droves of tourists departing the train station. They were playfully chased by kids, and, as you can probably imagine, were not too happy about it. The ones that submitted to their situation managed a smile and soon got covered in powder and water balloons. I walked around for a few hours, taking pictures, exchanging greetings and hugs, and it was hard to wipe the smile off my face. I was thrilled at the experience of seeing how such a fun and important holiday is celebrated by nearly everybody right out in public.
I ended up meeting a few other foreigners - a Brit, a Canadian and two Japanese. We relaxed by a functioning spigot and got to know each other as we did our best to clean our arms and faces. After seeing kids pelt each other with water balloons, police trying to disperse unruly groups of young boys, and taking photos of everything I found interesting, humorous and symbolic, I headed back to my hotel.
The sun was going down. I managed to scrub myself off, change into fresh clothes, and have a meal. These were my last moments in India before my trip home. When I arrived four weeks before, the entire country had been abstract and theoretical; now, sitting in a restaurant with my soda and vegetable fried rice, India, over these weeks, had become real and experiential and my first lesson was at an end.
