Why India ?

Before leaving, on the flight over and numerous times on our journey, we were asked "Why India?"

And on multiple occasions, we also asked ourselves, the very same question. Well, here is our answer: "Le seul voyage dont on ne revient pas les mains vides, est intérieur." - Amos Oz

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Avant de partir, sur le vol nous menant ici, et à plusieurs reprises au cours de ce voyage, nous nous sommes fait demander :"Pourquoi avoir choisi l'Inde?"

En de multiples occassions, il nous est aussi arrivé de nous poser cette même question, à nous-mêmes. Et bien voici notre réponse: "Le seul voyage dont on ne revient pas les mains vides, est intérieur." - Amos Oz. 

Nainital

Cette fois, on s’avoue vaincue et nous avons choisi d’accepter l’aide offerte par notre superviseur pour la planification de ces quelques jours. Bonne chose, car traverser d’un état à l’autre n’est pas une mince tâche. Bref, en route pour Uttaranchal, état frontalier avec le Népal, en compagnie de Sukhdev, chauffeur désigné, qui parle anglais: “ Yes, Ma’am” – “ I don’t understand Ma’am”. En chemin, on pu avoir un glimpse du Gange.

7 heures de route plus tard, nous atteingnon une altitude de 1938 mètres, où se trouve la station climatique de Nainital. Tal signifie lac en Hindi et Naina signifie oeil en sanscrit, ainsi le lac à l’eau émeraude niché au creux de la vallée serait l’un des yeux verts de Sati, l’épouse de Shiva.  La ville fut fondée lorsque les Britanniques se sont sentis nostalgiques de leur Cumbrian Lake District.

Pour une fois dans ce voyage, le timing était au rendez-vous. Nous avons pris le télésiège jusqu’en haut de Snow View (2270 m). Par temps clair, comme ce fut le cas pour nous, Snow View nous a offert un panorama sur l’Himalaya, dominé par le Nanda Devi (7816 m). 

Entreprenant une marche dans la montagne, en cherchant le Gompa, dirigé par le Dalai Lama, nous avons reçu un appel de Dr. Nandy. Étant informées que nous devions partir tôt le lendemain matin, nous avons abandonné nos recherches sans fruit. Par le fait meme, nous avons aussi été informés qu’il ne fallait pas dire au revoir à notre chauffeur.
“Where is your driver? Why isn’t he taking you?”
“Oh! Dr. Nandy that’s not how it works in Canada…”
“ Why did you tell him to go? There is a room for him at your hotel, you are paying for it.”
Parce que savoir ça maintenant, c’est tellement plus pratique!

On a bien essayé de trouver un endroit pour manger, mais connaissant notre chance, nul besoin de vous mentionner que les trois premiers restaurants étaient fermés et le dernier ouvrait dans 30 minutes. Des mets chinois au menu, apparemment la cuisine étrangère la plus appréciée des Indiens.

Feeling unsafe at 6.30 pm, as the town was now solely dominated by men, we called the hotel for a pick as we had lost our driver. Avec le peu de mots indiens à notre répertoire, on attendait avec espoir une voiture nous reconnaissant.
"Jama Masjiid, pick up NOW, tikka?"

Ce fut le cas et on a ainsi pu éviter la marche dans les sentiers de la montagne à la noirceur.

We woke up to a wake-up call asking us about breakfast. 

"Hello Ma’am, corn flakes, boiled eggs, butter toast." 

On a vraiment faim, on a envie de tout avoir, mais peut-être que l’on doit choisir?! Dans l’incertitude, on a répondu : Atchaaa (meaning good) et on a raccroché.

Luckily, we got it all! Nos estomacs satisfaits, on s’est mis en route pour la hike Dorothy’s Seat à 4 km à l’ouest du lac. Meilleur café du voyage, pris au sommet en admirant la vue imprenable sur la région. 

On our Path to Inner Peace

Having done a few yoga classes together prior to our trip, we were keen to experience it in the place where it all began. At the recommendation of our OT colleague, we started yoga classes at Moraji Desai National Institute of Yoga. The sign up process was not really what one would expect: medical check-up, yogic talk, and nutritional interview. After this thorough examination, we were signed up for the Health Promotion Program, the only class that fit our schedule. 

100 Rupees (2.50$) – unlimited month of yoga – I Looove My India!

“Comment ca va?”, was one of the first thing we heard. Ah! Que le monde peut sembler petit parfois… our yoga teacher has her brother and sister in law living in Nun’s Island, Montreal.

A few striking points…

- with a jerk, is how they perform their movement

- jumping jack and cycling in the air is part of their routine

- and deep breathing consists of us pumping our stomachs such that our breathes collectively sound like a heard of grunting animals.

Happily, it all ends with a laugh.

Vivement la promotion de la santé – the Indian way! 

A High Profile Wedding

Simply to mention there is a lot of diversity in Indian marriages...

Thinking we were buying our saris for a once in a lifetime opportunity, we were invited by the new family we are staying with, to a Hindu wedding. It felt odd to come home from work, dress up and head into the car. Although we have been driven around quite a bit, this car ride is hard to beat: a man on his cellphone, driving in a standard car, in a rainstorm (downpour) with his 2 years old daughter singing and climbing between the seats and over the gear shift. Car safety is still under way in India…
 

We arrived alive, in time to see security guards, the groom and the Delhi High Commissioner being photographed. The warmth and charm of the Bengali family was clearly absent as anybody could have walked in to this very opulent, lavish, albeit impersonal wedding ceremony. Case in point: we ate from the massive buffet, while fireworks went off, stood for a picture and 2 hours later, we were back home. 

Where to Begin...Our Journey to Agra.

In an effort to make things easy for ourselves, we planned this trip a week prior at Thugs when we read about a Government-run tour that coincided with the daily Taj Express train from Delhi.  Considérant que l’on allait visiter un truc très touristique, on pensait se simplifier la vie en optant pour quelque chose d’organiser. 

Fidèles à nos habitudes, nous avons visité 4 bureaux avant de finalement pouvoir acheter nos billets avec U.P. Tourism… mais c’est governemental, donc ils ne peuvent pas réserver le train pour nous, nous devious nous y render.  En route vers New Delhi Railway Station, nous avons laissé tomber l’idée de débuter un cours de yoga aujourd’hui.  Exploring all 4 corners of the railway station before finally finding the Tourism Booking Office, where Emma was told that due to her student visa, she was not considered a tourist and had to book in “General Quota” matlab (= meaning) 2^nd class, local population.  Well, us people were about to live a very cultural experience!

5am, the morning of- Parmjeet, our lovely Indian driver who understands f**k all in English (and later we were to find out, could barely read Hindi), is at Neelpadem Kunj to greet us.  At least he knows driving… or so they say.  Train left on time, so we had high hopes.  We were very much enjoying the experience, sharing our seats with a family that offered us food, small children dancing/begging for money in the isles, tea venders, etc.  Emma also enjoyed her first “Times of India”, in its proper context.  Turned out the Taj Express did not live up to its name – we boarded at Agra Cantt 2 hours late, implying that we had missed our tour.  Somewhat fortunately, there was an Indian family in the same boat as us and they argued in Hindi for an arrangement instead of a refund. We waited for the taxi driver in Indian Stretchable Time (IST), i.e 1.5 hours, missing the ancient city of Fatehpur Sikri. Instead, we visited an Hindu temple that has been under construction for the past 180 years. It is believed to be done purposefully, as it encourages craftsmanship in the region. Well, we can now say that under marble, there is brick!

We met up with the group for Agra Fort – a massive majestic red sand stone fort and palace, created by Emperor Akbar in 1565 and completed by Shah Jahan.  It became Jahan's gilded prison for the last 8 years of his life, as his son emprisoned him for having spent 40 million Indian Rupees of the public money to build the Taj Mahal. Le guide nous a montré de quelle façon Jahan pouvait avoir un regard sur son oeuvre - il utilisait un pièce de monnaie, à l'aide de laquelle, avec les rayons du soleil, il arrivait à avoir un regard sur le Taj, construit au nom de l'amour de sa bien-aimée. Two thirds of it is currently under military occupation, but the third that we have seen was well worth the visit. 

What is so beautiful about these buildings is the exquisite marble screens and the pietra dura marble inlay work that reflect and shimmer in moonlight. Again, our guide positioned us in a way that allowed us to see these effects with the sunlight. 

He went on to show us about the Hall of Public Audience where you could stand from any point and be able to see and hear the Emperor. Thanks to the sound architecture of the time. In response to this, the father of the family said to his son: "This is what we were, our potential, and what we can still become."

Last, but not least -  Taj Mahal

The most extravagant monument ever built for love.

“On ne voit bien qu’avec le coeur, l’essentiel est invisible pour les yeux.” – A. Saint-Exupéry

Un dimanche hors du commun...

Après notre cours du dimanche, nous avons décidé de nous rendre au Rajghat, c’est-à-dire l’endroit de la crémation de Mahatma Gandhi. Particulièrement aujourd’hui, sa mémoire fut soulignée car le 30^e jour du mois de janvier est le jour de l’anniversaire de son assassinat. De toute évidence, l’endroit avait été décoré pour l’évènement, mais avec notre sens du timing, vous pouvez y lire que l’on est arrivé une fois la cérémonie terminée…

Thinking that it would be a peaceful experience, we were approached by the principal of a school in Ghaziabad – an area close to where we live – and were asked to take pictures with the children. We were about to live our biggest paparazzi moment of this trip…well, so far.. we felt like celebrities while a dozen of children were offering their hands for us to greet them individually !  Once the chaos subsided, we were able to take the peace of the moment and pay our respect to the Father of this Nation, noting the inscription on his memorial of his last words: Oh God! – Hai Ram

Seven Social Sins

Politics without Principles
Wealth without Work
Pleasure without Conscience
Knowledge without Character
Commerce without Morality
Science without Humanity
Worship without Sacrifice

L’aventure se poursuit, cette fois à la recherché d’un restaurant établi en 1956: Chor Bizarre – Hotel Broadway. En entrant dans l’établissement, on a cru un instant que notre sens du timing nous faisait encore défaut, car le restaurant était fermé. Pour passer le temps, on s’est installé au bar Thugs.
“ 2 Kingsfisher, please” – confiantes de paraître 25 ans (legal drinking age in Delhi)  Et bien, ca l’a fonctionné! Toutefois, on se sentait plus ou moins comfortable dans l’endroit…plutot du genre somber et “gentleman’s club”, pas étonnant d’y trouver qu’une salle de bain reservée aux hommes, mais nous avons tout de même grandement apprécier cette première consommation du voyage – après le vin servi dans l’avion…

Beers consumed, feeling slightly happier, we are taking seats in the restaurant that has kept its original décor, completed with an antique car serving as central attraction and a vintage bed as one of the main table. Feeling slightly carnivorous after the first full week completed with our vegetarian family (no meat, no chicken, no fish, no egg, no garlic, no onion – not even in the house), we opted for a few of the above, the best being the garlic prawns!
Des fois, c’est bien fait la vie en Inde! ;) 

Old Delhi

A few weeks ago we had the idea to visit Old Delhi, an idea which was rapidly turned down when the morning of, we learned that the district has been shut down due to a manifestation of 10 000 Muslims, protesting the demolition of a Mosque in South Delhi.  Today, despite Dr. Nandy's apprehensions of us going alone and even offering for our supervisor to accommodate us, we finally felt that we were accustomed enough to daily Delhi life to make a visit to this walled city.

Upon exiting the metro at Chandni Chowk (chowk = town square) we were greeted with the chaos that inhabits what was once the greatest markets in all of India.  Red Fort, or Lal Qila, which served as the capital of the Mughal empire stands majestically at one end of this thoroughfare.  

After visiting the premises of the Red Fort complex, which had the capacity to house 3, 000 people in its heyday (now, more like 3, 000 tourists!).. we decided to have some lunch at Karim's - a generation-run restaurant which opened in 1913 and boasts that its founders, would feed the Mughal emperors of the day-where we tasted the best naans of our lives.

Next up - Jama Masjid, India's largest 

mosque - where we were asked to leave just after we got in for the afternoon prayers.  We spent the next half hour on the steps outside, taking in the sights and smells of the nearby markets, just so we could have a chance to hike up to the top of one of the towers for one of the best views of Delhi afterwards. En attendant patiemment assises sur les marches de l'entrée, on a vécu une expérience culturelle bien locale, étant sollicité pour prendre des photos avec des étrangers et communiquant en langage des signes avec d'autres.

Afin de bien boucler la boucle, et question de rester fidèles a nos habitudes de marche, nous nous sommes rendues a pied au métro le plus près, traversant les marchés les plus inusités que l'on a vu jusqu'alors. Des marchands de pièces d'autos,  aux marchands de papier et cartes de toutes sortes, aux articles de plomberie - essayer d'y comprendre la suite logique...