My first few days in Delhi

As soon as my traineeship in Geneva was over, I flew to India. I do not have a job yet, and so I figured that a week spent sightseeing and networking might be just the right thing for me. Even if it doesn’t work out this time, perhaps making a few contacts will lay a good foundation for the future; it would be nice to live in India for a few years getting to know the country properly.

Everything worked out suspiciously well on my way over, which was surprising considering the difficulties that accompanied my planning. The day before my flight, my hotel cancelled on me, saying they needed to do some renovations. This left me scrambling for alternatives, and the best alternative I could find at such a late date was a place in the notorious neighbourhood of Paharganj. Only a few days before my flight, I also found out about a public transport strike in Geneva for the very day I was supposed to reach the airport. These ordeals did not alleviate my stress of planning this journey, which was already quite high due to the number of meetings I was trying to coordinate.

The strike was eventually cancelled but I still stuck to my cab ride. I thus arrived at the Airport a full three and a half hours before my flight, giving myself just enough time to buy a few gift chocolates I had forgotten to acquire beforehand.

The plane arrived early in Istanbul, but the new airport there is so stupidly massive that I did not dare to take any liberties during my eighty-minute transfer. All I did was make a quick stop at the bathroom, and even then I was one of the last to join the queue. Of course, this meant that all the overhead storage was almost fully occupied by the time I boarded the plane. The couple sitting next to me was a pair of Eastern Europeans wearing traditional Indian garments, the man bald and the woman sporting a bindi. When I asked them whether the rather spaciously packed items were theirs, the woman started lecturing me that “this is what happens when you enter the plane later.” Baffled at her combative tone, I explained to the good woman that all I wanted was her permission to squish her blanket, which she begrudgingly gave.

Given the long boarding process, we arrived in Delhi a little later than expected. Still, I took my time to make sure I did everything right, remembering my unhappy arrival in Kolkata last year. I dutifully exchanged half of my money, collected my luggage, and asked the guards to help me connect to the airport WiFi so that I could check in case my pre-arranged taxi had fallen through. It did not, and I arrived at the hotel by seven o’clock in the morning.

I spent my first day in Delhi trying to recuperate from the practically sleepless night while arranging for a few necessities. I exchanged the rest of my money at the hotel (which offered a better exchange rate than the airport), and I took the receptionist up on his offer to provide me with a SIM card. Both my driver and the phone specialist were refreshingly explicit about their desire for tips, which I was happy to give for all the trouble they had saved me. Left with only 500-rupee banknotes, I decided I would make an effort to break a few of them up in the coming days. Tips, it seems, are very much expected of foreigners in practically all interactions, but in return such exotic-looking people are treated with exceeding courtesy.

I spent my second day in Jaipur and my penultimate day in Agra, both of which I will detail in separate posts. For the rest of my trip, I stayed in Delhi, visiting various sights in between meetings with new acquaintances and old friends. On Saturday, my itinerary took me to the upscale India International Centre, which is right by the peaceful Lodi Gardens and the Safdarjung Tomb. The gardens are named after the dynasty which ruled the Delhi sultanate in the 14 and 15 hundreds, and they house a number of royal tombs. The area was well frequented but peaceful, being a place popular with locals but not overwhelmed by tourists.

What I like about Delhi is that the somewhat sparse metro system is compensated for by tuk-tuk drivers, who stand outside each moderately popular tourist spot waiting for customers. They are more reliable in times of dire need than Uber and Ola. As I found out earlier in the day, both apps offer rates so low that drivers often reject customers who need to get through significant traffic or who do not want to travel very far. Thus, after leaving the Safdarjung Tomb, I took a tuk-tuk ride to the National Museum, where I spent around two hours.

The National Museum is a reasonably sized institution with a few exhibits worth seeing. I could have done without the Buddhist pavilion, which houses artefacts familiar from many international museums, though it was interesting to see monks coming to pay their respects to the relics housed there. More visually striking were the rooms dedicated to the decorative arts, which include many pieces made of intricately carved ivory. From a historical point of view, the archaeological section housing artefacts from the ancient cities of Mohenjo Daro and Harappa is also very significant. Finally, it was interesting to see the “anthropological” section, which focusses on ethnic groups that mainstream Indian society finds exotic, such as the people of Nagaland, Arunachal Pradesh, and Himachal Pradesh.

On a sidenote, I like the hotel where I am staying because it offers deliveries from a nearby reasonably priced restaurant. I have used this opportunity to try out new Indian foods, such as handi paneer, a cheese in a smooth red sauce. On Sunday, when I stayed in my room due to piling work and unfriendly weather, I also tried paneer pasanda. I found it rather similar, if somewhat less flavourful. By the time I progressed to shahi paneer, I lost all sense of what distinguishes these dishes.