I'm a Baby!

FROM MABUHEY TO NAMASTE

The standing all-expense paid invitation to India extended by my best friend Vichael now seems very enticing to a TV writer reeling from work-related heartaches. Plus, PAL has recently started flying direct to New Delhi, as India offers Visa-on-Arrival to Philippine tourists. I called up Vichael, whose been based in New Delhi for a couple of years, and it was set.
I booked the flights close to my intended departure so the roundtrip tickets cost a bit more at about USD900. Left evening in Manila and touchdowned about 1am at the impressive and new India Gandhi International Airport. I think PAL has since lowered the frequency of its direct flights to New Delhi, but I think it still remains the most convenient (and cheapest way to go there).
Check with the Indian Embassy website about requirements for the Visa-on-Arrival. I was ready with the Visa fee (about P2000) and passport photos. Mabilis lang naman ang prosesong ito sa airport.

Pagkatapos, armed with his diplomatic passport which allows him access into the airport, sinalubong na’ko ni Vichael ng isang bonggang-bonggang “Namaste! Welcome to India!”

Bago tumungo sa aming unang destination ay inikut-ikot muna kami ng kanyang Hindu driver around New Delhi, siyempre ‘di hamak na mas malawak ang New Delhi sa buong Kalakhang Maynila kaya mga major tourist spots lang na aking na-research ang dinaanan namin tulad ng Gate of India, at ang Red Fort (na sa kadiliman ng gabi ay black lang.) Pumasok din kami sa bakuran ng Philippine Embassy na ayon kay Vichael ay isa sa pinakamalalaking bakuran sa mga embahada ru’n. Tapos sa daan ay may nadaanan kaming lalaking hubo’t hubad.

Malapit na pala kami sa train station kaya kumakapal na rin ang tao – mga biyahero, nangangalakal, at holy men na kakapiranggot lang ang kasuotan o kung minsa’y wala at all.

Delhi can look like any Asian capital with its traffic and crowds but one distinct flavor is the sari. Women all over India wear the national costume as ubiquitously as jean are here. New Delhi women are drawn to dark-colored saris, while rural women wear the bright, floral hued ones. India, too, has very intimidating motorists. Dito ang pagbubusina is not considered rude, it is actually encouraged so other motorists and pedestrians would know of your speedy arrival. Side mirrors are also optional kaya makakatulong talaga ang pagbusina. Oo, totoo ‘to. karamihan sa mga kotse sa India walang side-mirror, o kung meron man, iisa lang. Kaya busina sila nang busina! Nakakaloka! Cars, rickshaws, bikes, mini-trucks come in all directions! Dedma sa lanes, at parang laging maghe-head-on collision kung hindi lang mag-iiwasan sa pinakahuling ang nagsasabong na sasakyan. Sa India ko na-realize na mababait pa pala sa daan ang mga gagong taxi drivers ng Maynila.

Sa train station ko unang na-experience ang quintessential India – or the Amazing Race India. Nope, hindi dahil mabaho. For some reason ito ang laging unang tinatanong sa’kin, kung mabaho raw sa India. Hindi mabaho sa India, I cannot emphasize this enough! Although, nagkalat sila everywhere! Mula sa steps leading to the entrance of the station, sa mga stairs to the different platforms, hanggang sa mismong mga platforms, nakahilata lang ang mga Indians sa sahig. Merong nakahilata sa bangko, merong mga naglalatag ng kumot o kartong mahihigaan, pero karamihan, talu-talo na basta mahihigaan, HIGA! “Business class” yung tickets na kinuha ni Vichael, siyempre, so meron naman kaming airconditioned na waiting area. may banyo rin na mukha namang maayos pero hindi ko na dineyr pasukin. Dito sa waiting area na-meet namin ang isang Austrian backpacker na si Denise. Papunta rin siyang Agra kaya inimbitahan na namin siyang sumama sa’min.

Kung mamatahin ng Manilenyo ang train station ng New Delhi, mas mabuti na ‘to kung tutuusin sa bus system natin na ‘di hamak na mas mahal at mas inefficient dahil mas kokonti lang ang nadadala nilang pasahero, kalat-kalat ang mga provincial bus stations natin, at nakakasikip pa ang mga bus sa kalsada kahit du’n pa lang sa pagpa-park nila sa mga istasyon. Ang tren hindi natatrapik, at sa equivalent na P350 pesos na pamasahe may masasarap pang pagkaing hinahain (freshly cooked at the train’s catering car). Sa mga train rides na ito una kong na-appreciate ang tea. It is served with every meal that usually consists of dahl, curry, yogurt, vegetables, and sweet bread for dessert. Tea is served hot from a pot, and is taken with sugar cubes and milk. Walang sinabi kahit na ang deluxe trip ng Victory papuntang Baguio!



ANG UNDERWHELMED SA TAJ MAHAL

After a couple of hours, narating na rin namin ang Agra, home of the Taj Mahal. Sa totoo lang, sawa na yata si Vichael sa dami ng mga Pilipinong naipasyal niya rito. Nadala na rin yata si Vichael sa mga ilang bisitang na-underwhelm daw sa Taj Mahal kaya hindi niya masyado na ring binild-up ang world-famous landmark. Pero nag-insist pa rin ako kahit na mahaba pa ang bibiyahiin mula New Delhi dahil para na rin nga naman akong nagpunta ng France nang hindi nakikita ang Eiffel Tower kung pupunta ako ng India pero hindi ko makikita nag Taj Mahal, ‘di ba? Nu’ng naglalakad na kami papalapit sa kanya ay napuno na’ko ng excitement at makikita ko na sa wakas ang dati’y nababasa’t nakikita ko lang sa mga litrato. Hindi mo matatanaw ang Taj Mahal mula sa malayo. Nakapaloob pala kasi ito sa isang courtyard na napaliligiran naman ng mataas na moog. Ang moog ay may malaking gate na kung saan matatanaw mo na ang Taj Mahal. Doon pa lang, napuno na’ko ng kaligayahan nang matatambad ang ilang bahagi ng pianaka-engrandeng mosoleyo sa daigdig. Hindi ako makapagsalita, namangha talaga ako sa Taj Mahal! At sabay ng aking kaligayahan ang inis… inis sa kung sinumang tinutukoy ni Vichael na na-underwhelm daw sa Taj Mahal. Bobo siya! O kaya’y napakalungkot na tao para ma-underwhelm sa ganitong architectural marvel, na isang monumento para sa pag-ibig! Para ma-underwhelm ka sa Taj Mahal kailangan ikaw ‘yung taong nakaligtas sa isang plane hijacking at nag-parachute pababa sa pyramids of Giza sa Egypt, o kaya’y isa kang transgender na matapos ipaglaban ang karapatang mag-compete ay nanalo kang Miss Universe! Otherwise, sorry, bobo ka.

We availed of the audio tours na nakatulong nang malaki para malaman ang kuwento at mga detalye ng Taj Mahal at ng mga nakapaligid na hardin. Iikutin ninyo ang hardin, aakyat kayo sa malaking fountain across the mausoleum, and finally, on the platform where the Taj is. Tapos ay papasok na kayo kung saan magkatabing nakahimlay ang mag-asawang nagbigay sa’tin ng Taj Mahal. Masuwerte raw kami sabi ni Vichael at maganda ang panahon, at hindi gaanong matao. Ang isa pa raw maganang paraan para makita ang Taj Mahal ay by moonlight. Maybe I’ll put that on my bucket list, or I’d wish that anyone reading could do that at i-tag na lang ako sa mga pictures.



THE COLORS OF JAIPUR

After a hearty Indian feast at a restaurant recommended by our handsome chauffeur, roadtrip na papuntang Jaipur. Nasa passenger seat ako na nakakawindang dahil left-hand drive sila doon. May mga times na gusto kong magmanibela. Most of the time, inaliw ko na lang ang sarili ko sa mga eksena ng rural life sa gilid ng four-lane national highway. Dito ko unang napansin ang mas makikintad na kulay ng mga sari sa probinsiya - blue kung blue, red kung red, orange kung orange, yellow kung yellow!

Mga apat na oras din yata ang biyahe papuntang Jaipur. Malalaman mong naandu’n ka na kung ang mga gusaling inukit sa bato ay kulay pink na. Pink! Jaipur is literally a mix of old and new, sa city center may mga international brand name stores at meron ding mga shops that sell traditional artifacts. Vichael booked us rooms in what used to be a home of the Indian royals. Now it’s a charming boutique hotel with intricate woodcarvings, ornate paintings on the walls and ceilings, and majestic furniture. We slept on four-poster beds!

We had dinner at a rooftop restaurant, where the waiters are handsomely chinito! I learned that they are Northern Indians, near the Indochinese border, and just as racial prejudice exist against people who look different in other parts of the world, here, the Asian-looking Indians are usually marginalized.

Kinabukasan, we set out to visit ancient palaces and fascinating gardens. The grandest we’ve seen lies just outside Jaipur, in Jodphur, the majestic Mehrangarh Fort, which seems to occupy the entire summit of a mountain. You can choose to ride an elephant but Lonely Planet discourages this as the welfare of the beasts is in question. Our trusty car took us right up to the entrance of the palace. It is easy to get lost in the labyrinthine structure with its circuitous hallways that lead to mysterious rooms and balconies, each offering a different vantage view of the surrounding river and planes. We explored entered tunnels and dungeouns that supposedly lead to the city. At one hallway, a snake charmer immediately played his flute the moment we entered, and I saw the head of a black cobra emerge from the basket infront of him. I immediately ran away, my fear of snakes getting over my desire to view a potentially fascinating sight.

Going back to the city, we made a quick stop to view a palace built in the middle of a lake. Right in the old city is Hawa Mahal (Palace of the Wind) with its intricately carved windows and walls, then we went to another UNESCO Heritage sight, Jantar Mantar, a courtyard which features gigantic sculptures, which are actually instruments that could accurately measure the positions of the heavenly bodies, among other things. Beside it is the City Palace, which features museums on the life of Indian royalty up to the British occupation. One quick stop at another palace near the train station and we parted ways with our Austrian backpacker friend. She was off to explore Udaipur, famed for its enchancting lakes, while Vichael and I have to go back to New Delhi before venturing to our next stop.



ONE NIGHT IN DELHI

More hearty meals on our train ride back to the capital, then I finally got to spend the night at Vichael’s apartment, which is just across the New Delhi Deer Park and, yes, there were actual deers in that vast wooded park. As this would be our only time in the city, Vichael had to make me experience some of hot Delhi nightlife. We went to a singles bar and danced and drank with cosmopolitan New Delhi men. Incidentally, and pangalan ng bar ay “Pepper,” in Tagalog…



THE HINDU AND MUSLIM FESTIVALS

The next morning we had to catch a flight to the holy city of Varanasi, where the Holy Ganges River flows. Spice Jet ang pangalan ng domestic airline. Varanasi has a modern airport that welcomes tourists and pilgrims from places like Nepal and Bhutan. Ganges View Hotel sits on the bank of the Ganges, the most sacred river in Hinduism. Alcohol is not served in these establishments that sit on what is considered sacred soil. Onions and garlic are also banned due to religious dietary customs. Just the same, Indian food remains palette-tizing, with its wondrous colors and spices that may assault the tongue at first, but slowly ease its way into your mouth’s enjoyment.

Pero nahirapan akong enjuyin ang leg na’to ng India trip namin. It was the middle of the day when we touched down, and our quest for an open restaurant had Vichael and I navigating the hot, narrow, dusty, dinghy, and cow dung-littered streets of Varanasi. Nang binanggit ko kay Vichael ang aking kaunting pagka-eew, siyempre hiniritan chinallenge niya ang pagka-kowboy ko, nainis ako and asked him to just shut up, tumahimik na lang siya, at pinalipas na lang namin ang tanghali. Baka pagod lang ‘to.

Nagising kami sa mala-piyestang energy sa labas. Kakalubog lang ng araw at maraming mga Hindu devotees, garbed in their colorful saris, ang nagdaragsa sa ghat sa mismong tapat ng aming hotel. Ang ‘ghat’ ang mga istraktuang may hagdan patungo sa tubig na mahahanap sa pampang ng Ganges River. Dito nagtatampisaw, lumalangoy, naglalaba, nagsisipilyo, nagmumumog, naglalaba, nagdarasal, nag-aalay, nagme-meditate, nananalangin, at sa kaso ng mga ‘burning ghat,’ nagpapa-cremate ang mga Hindu. Ang hotel namin ay nasa mismong pinakadulong ghat kaya kitang-kita mo kung paanong magsama-sama ang mga nananalangin, parang Quiapo sa tabing-ilog!

Nakakakamangha ang selebrasyon sa paligid, at dumagdag pa ang mga Muslim na nakamagagarbong tunic. Noong araw na’yon pala’y nagkasabay ang Pista ni Ganesh (the Elephant deity) ng mga Hindu, at ang Eid ul-Fitr (End of Ramadan) ng mga Muslim, kaya parang sa Bisperas ng Pasko ang malalanghap mong saya at excitement.

Nagpahatid kami sa pangunahing ghat, at mula sa isang bangkang nakadaong ay natunghayan namin ang seremonyas ng mga Hindu. Para nga siyang Misa na may sabay-sabay na pagkanta’t pagdarasal. Ang altar ay isang mataas na entabladong nakaharap sa Ilog, at ang mga pari ay may kinakampay-kampay na apoy.

Sa buffet dinner pagbalik sa hotel, sa isang small wooden hall ornately decorated with Indian paintings and furniture, naka-table namin ang dalawa pang Austrian, isang guwapong college student, at isang middle-aged Catholic priest na naintriga yata nang mag-sign of the cross kami right before eating. The student was off to see New Delhi in a few days, while the priest will visit the bodhi tree where the Siddharta Guatama Buddha achieved nirvana. You can tell that was some conversation on religion over dinner.



A SOUVENIR FROM MUDRA GANGA

Sa kabila ng warning na masyadong swollen ang Ilong Ganges at hindi safe, mamangka, sumugod pa rin ang mga turista sa mga ghat para ma-experience ang isang Lonely Planet recommended experience - boating at dawn on the Ganges River. Buhay pa naman kami so I would say the risk was well worth it. At dawn, river and the ghats, turn golden. And from the boat you see the colorfully clad worshippers doing their morning rituals at that ghats. The Ganges is irrefutably polluted but the devotees don’t seem to mind as they bathe and drink the water. We even saw a shrouded corpse awaiting to be burned. Dahil nagdi-dip naman ako sa Manila Bay tuwing nagda-dragonboat, inisip kong mag-dip pero nakakatakot ang ragasa ng tubig, at natakot din ako sa nabasa kong warning na maaaring makakita ka pa ng mga lumulutang na body parts sa ilog. Still, mystical pa rin ang power allure ng Ganges River, lalo kung nakita mo kung paanong manapalataya sa kanya na ang mga Hindu. At one point, sa lakas nga ng alon, natangay ang bangka namin papalapit sa isang ghat na punung-puno ng mga nagdarasal. Tarantang-taranta ang mga mag-amang bangkero dahil tatamaan nila ang mga tao, pero ‘di natinag ang mga holy men sa kanilang pagdarasal, ni hindi sila umalis sa kanilang puwesto at sa kanilang praying posture, bagama’t tinitignan na nila nang matalas ang bangkero. Last minute na rin nilang naiiwas ang bangka. Amen.

Later that day, while checking out the stores (bought nice silk scarves at bargain price from a shop owner who said we looked like the Hong Kong athletes who bought from him during the Commonwealth Games), we ventured into the shop of a Varanasi artist. He proudly showed us clippings of articles about him, quite a few about his world record for the most number of paintings of Ganesh done in one marathon session. He led us into his private studio and showed us more artworks. Vichael bought two watercolor renditions of Ganges, one for himself and the other for me. Then the man took out a necklace and said he felt like he wanted to give it to me, he even prayed over it before putting it around my neck. He asked, “Do you have wife?” I said, “No.” “Do you have girlfriend?” Again, “No.” Then he whispered, “Soon. Soon.”

The rudraksha is the nut used as prayer beads. The five divisions of the seed represent the five faces of the Shiva the Destroyer, one of the three major Hindu gods. A five-faced rudraksha considered sacred (ans supposedly lucky as a four-leaf clover). I wore the necklace never realizing its significance until I was at the Indira Gandhi International Airport that night and the airport security, eyeing my necklace, inquired “Is that real? Where did you get that?”

“I hope so. He just gave it to me,” I deliberately gave a vague answer. And as I stepped off the inspection platform, I saw him point me out to the other guards who watched me walk away and leave their mysterious and beautiful country with hopefully some of the precious magic it holds.


EPILOGUE

A few days later, as I was convincing Haydee na maganda sa India at hindi mabaho sa India, she exclaimed that I smell, uhm, Indian. Driving home after that, I, too, smelled India in the car. I sniffed my left hand (the hand you were supposed to eat with as the right is considered dirty), true enough, dumikit nga ang amoy ng curry sa kamay ko. But to me, it smells delicious!