Destiny

“All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.” - Martin Buber -

 

I discovered that writing (putting my experiences and thoughts on  ‘paper’), has become some sort of a passion for me. But it hasn’t become easier, on the contrary.
Two weeks ago on a Thursday we had a small get-together in our sector 48 trainee house. That evening many said that they read my blog and they thought it was breathtaking, out of this world and life-changing. They didn’t say it in those exact wordings but I got the feeling that when they said my blog is very good, this is what they meant.
Now, the pressure is on. People have expectations. Result: Writer’s Block!!

Let’s try it anyway. Luckily my cousin Roel, who is in Nepal right now, is also keeping a blog and he writes with a lot of passion. He motivates me. I take out my little pink notebook which my sister gave to me and see what I’ve written down. In this notebook I describe what I’ve seen each day in a few small words, just as a reminder for later so that I’m able to relive each and every day in India when I feel the need for it.

One thing I definitely won’t forget is my work at Banyan Tree School. You remember me saying I took an extra job as a ‘spoken English teacher’ to a class of mainly female teachers? Perhaps the best part of this new job is getting to know the Indian women. Not in the sense of finding a partner, but in the sense of finding out how these women live their lives in this still male-dominated country.
In my opinion, the best way to learn about a new culture is by talking to the people and let them explain how their daily lives look like. I’ve already talked with a lot of Indian people about our cultural differences but 99% of these people were men. It feels like I only heard half of the story so that’s why it is so interesting to hear from all these female teachers.

The writer’s block ends not so surprisingly at the next weekend trip. Friday (February 11th) at around 11 in the evening, we leave for Dharamshala, or better said: McLeod Ganj, home of the Dalai Lama. The Tibetan government-in-exile is situated there and so are a lot of Tibetan refugees. Besides tourists, like us, a lot of people also go there to study Tibetan Buddhism and culture. If only I had the time to do this…
Before going I read that the town has an average elevation of 2082 metres. Yessss! I want to do things here I cannot do in the Netherlands. And being in a beautiful mountainous area is one of them. Did you know that the highest ‘mountain’ in my country is about 333 meters high, and that we have to share it with the Belgians and Germans?

Our journey doesn’t start off well. The taxi we ordered is not as spacious as the one we used for Rishikesh. I’m right next to the driver whose English is very poor. My backpack is on my lap and I cannot move my legs. To make it even worse, the driver doesn’t allow me to fall asleep! He needs someone to talk to so that he doesn’t fall asleep either. Therefore I keep my eyes open but there’s no talking. How can I hold a proper conversation when the only Hindi words I know are types of food I read from the menu a few times each week?
Anyway, we arrive at McLeod Ganj at around 5 in the morning, earlier than expected. They allow us to stay at the hotel we only booked for the next day. As we are a bit up north and in the mountains, it is ‘rather chilly’. I wear all my clothes I brought along and go to sleep. 3 hours later we wake up, red-nosed by the cold, to discover we have a great view from our hotel room of a snow-capped mountain. Energy fills my body.

We walk along the calm and peaceful streets until we found ourselves in a nice Tibetan café for our well-deserved breakfast.  The food is inside, energy level now is through the roof. Some of our group arrive a bit later (girls) for breakfast but I’m too eager to explore more of the city so I’m not going to wait any longer. We decide to meet each other later at the main square, which is nothing more than a small junction between roads and paths. Me and Martin, my equally adventurous Slovakian roommate, start roaming the streets for that one special picture. And suddenly, there he is! The Dalai Lama! Just buying some fruits and vegetables on the streets. Hmm, maybe it’s a look-a-like… You’ll be the judge.

After walking a bit uphill and being chased back down by some pretty aggressive monkeys, we meet up with the others and make our way to the Tsuglag Khang, the Dalai Lama’s temple. First impression: simple. Some kind of disappointment goes through my mind. That’s the danger of being spoiled with the image of the Golden Temple in Amritsar. It creates such high expectations for every  ‘religious’ place that comes after. Quickly I decide to eliminate this thought, not being too focused on the buildings but start looking at the people and what they do. That’s more like it.

I see old ladies performing some kind of ritual by lying faced-down on a plank, getting up, putting their folded hands in the air, and lying down on the plank again. I ask some Tibetan-looking people how many times they do this. ‘It depends on the person. Some do it 200 times, some do it 300 times. Whatever you like.’ Impressive. Then I enter one of the rooms and I get captivated by a huge painting of the Wheel of time (Kalachakra), which regards time as cyclical and consisting of repeating ages. Then I notice something else. Around all the gods/mythical persons/don’t know what they are, there are cookies and juice packages and what not. They are the cheap brands I see every day at the market. Later I’m being told these are offers from the people. Whatever you offer, it will be stalled next to these figures for a while.

All around the rooms there are so-called prayer wheels which contain several thousand mantras. The Buddhists walk a few times round, in a clockwise direction, and spin every prayer wheel. Of course I do the same.

I’m describing too many things of the trip and I can’t wait to share with you the moment which messed up my mind. So let’s fast-forward.  We found ourselves walking a Kora (ritual circuit).

Colourful flags and mantras all around, great views over one of the valleys, impressive temples, loads of prayer wheels, 1 cow, some beggars whom I kindly give 10 rupees with great thankful smiles as a result and an empty stomach after all this walking. Let’s have some lunch! I take out my travel Bible to see if there are any nice places nearby. I find one within reasonable distance and once we arrive at the restaurant it appears to  be closed. Ok, no big deal, we’ll look for another place. And then the moment we get back on the streets again it happens…

I SEE SOMEONE I KNOW

Let me explain. In the corner of my eye I see two blond women walking down the stairs and I already know one of them is her. I double check and indeed, it’s Tove from Sweden, who I got to know during my time in Madrid. A friend, a classmate and a fellow Erasmus student. She’s together with her mother.
We look at each other for a second or two and then realize this is really happening. Oh my god, what a coincidence! What are the odds! We talk a bit, click some pictures, everything happens in a blur to me. This is so strange. Meeting each other in this huge country, in the same place, in the same street and it all depended on a matter of seconds. I keep thinking: ‘If the restaurant had been open I might have never seen her.’ Is this what they call destiny? The next hours my mind is going in overdrive. I just cannot believe it!

The next day; waking up red-nosed again. This day is all about going further into the mountains. It’s raining a lot but that doesn’t stop me. I’m from Holland, I was born in the rain. Again, Martin is the only one who takes on the adventure with me for which I’m very grateful. We experience amazing views, take amazing pictures and just feel amazing. One of those days that I’m very happy to be travelling and not stuck in that flat country of mine.

The weekend has been wonderful. McLeod Ganj is peaceful and unique with its Tibetan-Indian community. One weekend was too short to experience everything the city and its surroundings have to offer, but it was yet another trip that made me think.

Some random thoughts on the way back:
Time flies. I stay the same but my ideas about life are changing.
I never really believed in anything, just rationality. But this weekend I was being pushed in the direction of believing in destiny.
Maybe it’s destiny that brought me to India. Is that the answer to one of my questions I had in Rishikesh? If so,what am I going to find here? My future occupation, the love of my life, change in attitude? Or an encounter with someone who can open my eyes with just a few words. I think I will find the answer in Varanasi. Every week I think about this place a few times. It’s in my mind, like India was a few months ago, and Madrid a few years before.
Some minutes later the rationalist in me takes over again. I know a lot of international people and maybe some of them were also very nearby  while I was visiting other countries throughout the years, but I missed them then.
It does make me wonder though…

Tip for today: If you ever experience a writer’s block… just go to India

                                                                                    and take me with you.

January 28-30: Rishikesh, City of spirituality

With a group of 13 people we arrive at our hotel at 3.30 in the night. The freezing cold wind makes us quickly go into our rooms and crawl underneath the blankets. They smell like death. Unable to sleep at first due to the cold and the smell, I find myself rested and fit the next morning, ready to see another small part of this incredibly diverse country called India.
 
First 5 minutes on the streets of Rishikesh: 1 monkey and 3 cows. It’s like a zoo! After having banana honey pancakes at the nearest restaurant it is time to check out the city and its people. First thing I notice: a lot of tourists. I’m not used to that. In the first month it was usually me or the group I was with who were the only ‘white’ people around. The closer we get to the Lakshman Jhula Bridge, which crosses the holy Ganges and connects one part of the city with the other, the more monkeys we see! Apparently these monkeys are trained thieves, who are able to steal your purse, glasses or camera in order to exchange it for all the food you have. Before we cross the river we descend a small stone stairway which leads us to a peaceful rocky area besides the Holy River. Such a beautiful setting that we stay there at least an hour to chill and enjoy the moment.

After that we finally cross the narrow bridge, which is also used by motor bikes, cows and monkeys. On the other side I cannot resist the temptation anymore of all the wonderful clothing shops and it doesn’t take long before the first purchase is realized; some headgear, made in Nepal (can’t wait to show it to my cousin Roel who is in Kathmandu at the moment). Ok, so the first urge is satisfied for now. Let’s walk around and see all the interesting-looking people of which this city is rich of. A lot of ‘pelgrimish’ people and many of them wearing orange,  the national color of the Netherlands, the color that fills me with pride. I wonder how their lives look like. What brought them here? How do they spend their days? Are they making a living or are they just begging all day long? Too many questions that will remain unanswered, for now. 

Why did I actually come to India, why not a different country?
 Did I really just follow my feeling or was it a rational decision? Maybe even destiny?
The same holds for these questions; they will remain unanswered, for now…

Back to the trip. Eventually we walk around Rishikesh the entire afternoon and lay our tired bodies on some pillows in a tent/restaurant. One of those places with a vibe that makes you high without having to use any drugs or alcohol. The sun goes down and the city goes to sleep, early. We have some dinner with a great evening view over the Ganges and then we end the night with a smuggled bottle of vodka (alcohol is forbidden in Rishikesh),pieces of Slowakian chocolate and Robin’s palm reading session until the electricity suddenly gets shut off. Bed time. Back to the blankets of death.

The alarm goes off at 7 in the morning. Why did I put an alarm again? Oh yeah, I was planning to wash away my sins in the holy Ganges. I’m excited! Then I open the door, c-c-c-c-old…not so excited anymore. But hey, this might be my last chance ever to do it. I walk through the town, which is still sleepy just like me and I go down the stone stairway which leads me to the river. A lot of monkeys are coming my way. Shit, they see the orange I have with me. I try to scare them away but they are aggressively coming closer and closer. No one around to help me, so I run up the stairs again and start laughing about this funny situation. The monkeys are not following me but I finish my orange and take another path to the Ganges. I get settled on one of the rocks, just to enjoy the silence. I’m not ready to bath yet. First close my eyes and relax. After a while Maria shows up, who promised me the night before to join me. Now it is time. The Ganges is calling me. I’m answering its call. I take of my headgear, scarf, shoes, socks, jacket, sweater, shirt, t-shirt and undershirt and roll up my sweatpants. I slowly walk into the Ganges until the water reaches my knees while thinking: “ I never thought to be walking into the Ganges one day”. I wash my face and the rest of my body. I’m probably only a minute in the water but it feels like eternity. Maybe this is one of those reasons why I chose for India and not another country. Maybe this was somewhere in the back of my head when I was still back home. To bath in the Ganges this morning was my own idea, no one suggested it to me and of the 13 people we are with I’m the only one who did it. I had this strong urge to do it. Was it there all along?

Now I’m pure again.

Maria and I go to a German bakery for some breakfast. A breakfast that gives me amazing energy, with an amazing apple crumble as well! Actually, two amazing apple crumbles because Maria can’t finish hers. Life is smiling at me!

Not long after that, Prem Baba (Love Guru) is smiling at me. I am sitting cross-legged on a small pillow in a simple room. In the room are about 200 people, seated in the same position, beautifully chanting the same melody repeatedly like angels, but every time with a tiny bit more power. Most of them are followers of the Brazilian guru we came to see. Everyone is dressed up so nicely, but simple, non-materialistic, and they all look so peaceful. The first minutes I can’t stop looking around. But then the music grabs me. I close my eyes and let the chanting take me to a different place.

Peace.
Disconnected.
Happiness.
Whatever happened after this, including the love guru’s speech, it didn’t even come close to this moment. All the ‘spiritual stuff’, especially the meditation part, and what I’ve heard and seen about it this weekend, might be a good thing to try out one time.

After spending the last hour shopping for souvenirs and clothes, I leave this city with a new Indian look and a new look on spirituality. I also leave this city with a lot of questions. That’s a good thing right?

“People don’t take trips – trips take people” 
 - John Steinbeck -

Something special happens every day.

India. A bit strange, but I like it.

The last story I wrote happened already more than 3 weeks ago. As this is India, since then lots of things made me smile, were mildly annoying, left me in surprise, amazed me and made me think.

                Just too much to talk about…

And many of the things I want to share with you are too hard to explain for the moment. You have to be here to fully understand them and judge them by its true value without being prejudiced. Maybe I can explain them properly later on, when I’m back home, and have a chance to look back and reflect on the feelings, ideas, taste and atmosphere I’m experiencing now.

But for the moment, let me share some things that happened here to give you a small impression;

Monday afternoon, January 10^th
Having lunch in an Indian coffee house with Daniela and 2 new roommates from Korea and Switzerland.
We are sharing a table with an Indian guy, no emotion on his face. He sees we are having trouble figuring out what all the things on the menu actually mean, so he explains everything to us and even helps us ordering. After finishing his own meal he stands up and says to us: “Don’t pay the bill”. “Why not?” we ask, with not even the slightest idea what he means by that. “I already paid for you”. No way! And then he left.
There’s no better way to say Welcome to India than that.

Tuesday afternoon, January 11^th
Should have started my job the day before.
But AIESEC didn’t take care of it on time. No worries, this is India. Everything has a 3-days delay. Here, Indian Standard Time is also called Indian Stretchable Time. Still, my orange clockwork is taking control over me and I decide to look for the school, while jogging with my girls, leaving a lot of Indian people amazed with surprise on this very sunny day. After asking lots of people where the address actually is (not as easy as in Europe), we finally find Woodsbury School.
“Sir Dennis, we were expecting you”. I make an appointment to meet the principal the day after and happily walk back to our crappy trainee house. On our way we pass a Sikh temple where they are celebrating the 10^th Guru’s birthday. So…let’s take a look!
Rule number 1; take off your shoes and socks and cover your head. Then it is time to enter the temple and sit down, legs crossed, and pay respect to the guru/pray. Finished? Let’s have a free lunch with all the Sikh’s and when you need more chepati (sort of a small pancake), just fold your hands. I feel perfectly comfortable with all the Sikh customs, after the ‘golden’ experience in Amritsar. Such a pleasant feeling when you start to feel experienced with a new culture, when you start to feel ‘at home’.
We were the talk of the temple.

Wednesday morning, January 12^th
Appointment with the principal of Woodsbury; my new employer.
After a warm welcome of all the Madams (the entire staff is called Madam), Madam Principal gave me my job description; teaching 2 and 3 year olds. Ouch! That’s not what AIESEC promised me! They were supposed to be some years older so that I could actually communicate with them and teach them English. Fuck.

Thursday Morning, January 13^th
The children still have holidays, extended because of the cold winter. Me and my co-teacher (Madam) are preparing the lesson material for the coming week. Preparing means writing down nursery rhymes and doing crafts. From graduating at Tilburg University at the top of my class to cutting colored paper somewhere in India. Nice one Dennis.

In the evening I had some pork in a non-Indian restaurant. Sooooo good! Except for some chicken once in a while, I’ve become quite the vegetarian. Not by free will though.

Friday evening (and night), January 14^th
Nice gathering in our house with a few people, representing every continent. Ended up in a type of rock club with a DJ and a drummer who both had a different view on rhythm. Horrible combination. Closed off the night back home with my favorite drinking game; Mex!

Saturday morning, January 15^th
Rat in mi Kitchen is a nice UB40 song. But not when you actually have a rat in your kitchen! Malick, my roommate representing Senegal, saw a huge mouse, Tsjernobyl huge. So I think it’s a rat…
The idea of having a rat crawling around made us clean the kitchen like never before. We came across a lot of mouse/rat droppings in a few cabinets which haven’t been used so far. Now we know why they are not being used. Damn that was nasty.

In the evening we had a big party in our house, almost all the foreign trainees of Chandigarh at the time were here to drink and dance. So many different nationalities and cultures in one room but everyone is your friend within a matter of seconds. It would be nice to invite some of our world leaders to these kind of parties and show them how people should treat each other. Don’t you think?

Sunday afternoon, January 16^th
All day long we have new people moving into the house. We start the day with 6, lose 2 of them, and get around 10 new ones in return (from China, Russia, France, Taiwan and Brazil). They are all accompanied by their AIESEC traineeship managers. I think I’ve met about 20 new people in just a few hours, all asking where you are from and more standard questions like that. Stop! This is too much! I need a break. Like India this house is too crowded…

What better way to get rid of the stress than a Bollywood movie! Yamla Pagla Deewana was my first experience with this phenomenon in which of course dance and song plays a big part. But that’s not the only difference with watching a ‘western’ movie back home… People in the cinema were cheering and clapping when the lead characters appeared, when these made funny Punjabi remarks or during unreal over-the-top fighting scenes. No need to be silent during the movie, nobody was! Other minor differences were: the men in the movie were constantly crying instead of the woman, there was no kissing to be shown while the opportunity was there several times, the movie lasted for 3 hours and people left the theatre a minute before the movie actually ended. Although I didn’t understand much of what was said due to the lack of English subtitles, it was a great experience.

Monday morning, January 17^th
First day with the kids at kindergarten. They are 2 and 3 years old. Staring at me, afraid of this big white stranger. I have to do prayers, sing and do little dances. Not feeling comfortable. Can only communicate with them by gesture and facial expression. Why am I here again?

Tuesday afternoon, January 18^th
Sort of a mental breakdown. I tell the principal, after the same shitty day as Monday, that I’m not happy with this. It’s not their fault; it’s just that the AIESEC organization here in Chandigarh was not entirely honest about the job description. I want to teach older children, children who can actually understand what I’m saying. After the mental breakdown I decide pretty quickly that I can turn it into a positive thing. Let’s look for a second job for in the afternoon, something that suits my qualities better! For that I need to undertake action. And although I’m used to being smart, pretty and modest, I’m not very good in taking initiative. So this should be a good exercise.

In the evening something terrible happens. The Internet, one of our primary needs to survive and equally important to water and electricity, disappears! At the time we think it’s only temporary. But now I know better… Total panic in the house! Thanks a lot, AIESEC Chandigarh.

Wednesday morning, January 19^th
The kids are getting used to me. Some sitting on my lap, some calling me uncle. They start to talk a lot to me, no idea what they’re saying though. Damn language barrier.

Thursday afternoon, January 20^th
I went to the Chandigarh hockey stadium to ask if I can play some hockey there. I would never forgive myself if I don’t try to play my favorite game in India, where hockey is the official national sport (although cricket is way more popular). I got to talk with the sports administrator and one of the trainers of the Academy situated there. He is an ex-player and –coach of the Indian national team. The sports administrator is not sure if it will be possible to play there but when the trainer hears I’m from Holland there is no problem whatsoever. Yes, at times, being Dutch has some nice perks.

Friday afternoon, January 21^th 
After buying the necessary hockey equipment (stick, shoes, shin pads and ball), for about 55 euro’s (that’s about 1 hockey shoe in Holland), I went again to the stadium. Started to play a bit on the practice field outside the stadium, where some small children were also performing their tricks. After showing my rusty moves some of them came up to me; “What’s your name?” “And should we call you uncle or brother?”. So brother Dennis played a little match with these kids. Fuck, they’re already so good! They’re not playing in the stadium though because that’s only for the people who have the money to join the Academy. Such a shame, they are really, really good!

Taking initiative pays off. I found an extra job! I had a talk with the principal of the Banyan Tree School, a primary/secondary school almost next to the place where I live. It’s only for one hour a day after my kindergarten activities, but listen to this; I will teach spoken English to the teachers(!) there. Walking back home after hearing the good news, I was very excited. Not nervous at all, just very excited.  “Why am I not nervous? Did I already change that much?” I start to smile.

In the evening there was this wedding party going on in the open space between the apartment buildings where we live. Oh man, how I wish to be one of the people eating and dancing there! They played a lot of Punjabi music so we started to dance a bit of Bhangra on the balcony. Some people noticed us and a girl who knows Daniela thought we were very funny so she invited us! Woohoo!
Although the party was almost at its end, we put on our fancy clothes and entered the party. We were seated at a special table. About 7 waiters/cooks surrounded us and made sure we got the most amazing, delicious North Indian meal. Although we just had dinner it was too good to refuse. Even while being filmed by a camera crew, I had no trouble finishing this great meal. I love Indian food! Saturday afternoon, January 22^nd

Sunday afternoon, January 23^rd
We played football. Dutch, Russian, French combination vs. Senegalese, Indian, Taiwanese combination. No Spanish opponent so we won.

Monday , January 24^th
You remembered me saying it was very cold here in Chandigarh? Well, things changed. During the nights it’s still quite chilly but during the day it’s like Dutch summer! And we’re still in January… incredible!
Still no internet though. It has been almost a week now since we lost the connection. Apparently AIESEC didn’t pay the bill. It’s getting pretty annoying because I want to use it in order to prepare my classes and to contact the people back home. Besides, I cannot post any stories on my blog now. This one is getting too long!

Maybe you notice that I'm not very positive about the local AIESEC here. There are a lot of nice people in that organization, don't get me wrong. And they want us to have a good time. But as an organization they fail tremendously. Their goal of trying to bring as much people to Chandigarh as possible should be drastically altered to a policy with a stronger focus on the quality of internships and quality of living. They do not take us seriously as they keep on promising things that eventually won't be realized. Letting people sleep in the living room where they do not have a single centimeter of privacy, where they can only sleep when the last person goes to bed and are woken up by the first one who is having his breakfast in the kitchen is unacceptable. At one point, the maids stopped coming. The maids are poor children who probably have to do these kind of jobs to support their family. Why did they stop coming? AIESEC didn't pay them for the last 6 months. Unacceptable.

Tuesday afternoon, January 25^th
First lecture to the teachers of Banyan Tree School. I arrive in a class with around 20 female teachers (some have their children with them) and one guy. My first true teaching experience. It was very fulfilling! This was the professional experience I was looking for when I came to India. Still can’t believe I just taught a class of adult people. And I think I was actually pretty damn good for a beginner. I was confident. Now I need to make the teachers more confident in speaking English. That is going to be my main goal for the next month.

Seeing more of India is my other main goal.
...
...
...

“Without new experiences, something inside of us sleeps.  The sleeper must awaken.”
- Frank Herbert -

Speechless / Famous in India

This Saturday me and Daniela decided to take a bus around 10 in the evening to go to Amritsar, about 30 km from the Pakistan border. Amritsar, home to Sikhism’s holiest shrine; the Golden Temple. For those who not know, Sikhism is a religion, founded in Punjab by Guru Nanak in the 15^th century, which began as a reaction against the caste system. What I’ve seen so far is that the Sikhs, well at least the men, do not cut their hair or shave their beard, wear a turban to hide their probably 2 meter long hair, and some even carry a sword with them. I’ve heard that they also wear loose underwear but I won’t be the judge of that. Sikh men also seem to be a bit bigger than Indians in general. I’m still trying to figure out why that is.

So after a 4,5 hour warm bus ride with too loud Punjabi music we arrived at Amritsar at 2.30 in the night. We took a tuk-tuk with a friendly Indian couple to the temple complex. After chugging the last bit of my rum and coke (as alcohol and tobacco are strictly forbidden within the temple complex), we had to take our shoes and socks off… It was freezing cold! And no gloves allowed, damn! But hey, I’m Dutch so let’s do this! Once inside the complex, we saw the Golden Temple and forgot about the cold for a while, the sight simply took our breath away. And the chanting flowing out of the speakers took our thoughts to a different place. After staring at the temple for a while and taking some pictures, we started to walk around a bit and even at 3 in the night a lot of pilgrims were already there to pray and pay their respect, bath in Amrit Sarovar (the sacred pool surrounding the Temple), take a drink out of that same holy water and volunteer in cleaning the Parkarma (marble walkaway surrounding the water). I liked the idea of pilgrims volunteering in keeping the temple clean, however walking barefoot on a wet marble floor in the middle of the night...we were not made for this!

Luckily there were a lot of things to take our minds of the cold for a while. Everywhere we looked there were people praying and performing rituals. It was strange for me to see these pilgrims being so strictly religious, coming from a country where my generation doesn’t seem to take religion all that serious anymore. It was strange to see, but strange in a good way. After realizing my feet were turning blue we needed to find a place to warm up. And what better place than the Golden Temple itself! We crossed the Gurus’ Bridge and entered: gold everywhere, flowers, people praying, lots of colors and 4 well-dressed Sikhs playing some weird instruments and singing into microphones. So that’s where the chanting is coming from! We went upstairs to the first floor, more people praying, and...the Sikh Holy Book, which is huge!! Still amazed of the beautiful vibe surrounding us we went up to the second floor, which is outside and on top of the temple. Getting a bit emotional after seeing all these people really loving and living their religion and rituals, the cold kicked in again. Back to reality. So we left the temple and with the help of our holy Travel Bible we found the dorms where all the pilgrims (and us tourists) can sleep for free. We stayed there for half an hour to warm up our feet and went back to the temple because there was a ceremony planned at 5 AM which supposed to be really special. And special it was! It also seemed that we were the only tourists/non-Sikhs/white people attending this ceremony which made it even better. I’m trying to think how I should describe the whole thing and put it in words but I’m afraid it won’t do any right to what I saw and how it made me feel. At that moment I was speechless and even now I still am when I think about the ceremony. Let’s just say this was one of the reasons I came to India. Inner peace.

We went back to the dorms to catch some sleep and unfortunately were woken up at 10 again. Then we had breakfast in a big dining hall, together with the Sikh pilgrims, on the floor, for free. Great meal, great hospitality. After giving our plates to one of the hundred volunteers who were doing the dishes, one of the Sikhs asked us if we wanted to be on the picture with him. Yes please!!
We walked around the beautiful golden shrine once more to take some touristy pictures and then left the complex, to put on our socks and shoes. I love socks and shoes!

Next stop: Pakistan border.

About 30 km eastwards from the Golden Temple lays Wagah, the only road border crossing between India and Pakistan, also known as the Berlin Wall of Asia. Every day at around 5 in the afternoon, this border crossing closes and this is done by holding a big ceremony.  They have built big tribunes around the gates for the people to sit because some thousand Indians and Pakistanis are drawn to the spectacle every day. Arriving there in an Indian taxi (read: taxi with too many people in it), having 3 passport checks and being frisked two times, we were seated in the tourist section. After a while some guy in a white jogging outfit of some sort started to sweep up the crowd and the ceremony started. Traditionally dressed border patrol on both sides marked their territory by shouting and doing aggressive but silly walks. Every aggressive step directed at the Pakistanis was received by lots of cheering and laughter, great atmosphere! I have made some amazing videos from this ceremony but you’ll just have to visit me in 3 months to see them because I can’t put them up here. After lowering both flags, seeing one of the Indians shake hands with one of the Pakistanis and the closing of the gates, the show had ended. As we walked back to our Indian taxi while making some pictures, a group of Indians asked for my camera so that they could take a picture of me and Daniela. At least that’s what I thought... What they really asked was if they could be on the picture with me! So suddenly I was surrounded by 5 Indian guys from around my age, while holding up my little Indian flag, and giving them my best smile. This happened two times more and made me feel very ‘special’.

What a crazy trip it was.
Actually the entire week was crazy.

Still 11 more of these weeks to go. That should be interesting…

“If you reject the food, ignore the customs, fear the religion and avoid the people, you might better stay at home.” – James Michener

Cold Chandigarh

Where was I? O yeah, I arrived in India, chaos in Delhi, warm welcome by host family, lot of extremes etc. Wednesday, Day 3, I had another great Indian (warm) breakfast, did some chilling in my room and played some football with Jasmeet (of course while wearing my orange jersey). Then I did some shopping with Harmeet at a flea market because I needed some more warm clothes. Have I told you yet they have no central heating system so it’s inside as cold as outside? So most of the times I’m even wearing my jacket and scarf inside the house…crazy! Oh, and there’s no hot water. So taking a shower means boiling a lot of water, put it in a big ass bucket, mix that with cold water and then use this little scoop thingy to poor it on you.

Anyway, in the afternoon we watched a movie and then it was time to say goodbye to my host family and go to the trainee house, where I am supposed to be living for the rest of my stay here with fellow adventurers. I met my roomies: Malick from Senegal, Daniela from Brazil and Maria from New Zealand. Nice combination right? The combination 1) no heating system, 2) just a thin blanket, 3) crappy isolation and 4) officially the coldest day in Chandigarh ever recorded (no kidding!), was not so nice… I was wearing my jacket, scarf and gloves in bed and still had one of the coldest nights in my life and a really hard time falling asleep. I don’t even want to know how all the people in the slums must have felt. There were actually some deaths reported of (probably homeless) people who didn’t make it through the night. And that was Day 3!

The next morning, still frozen, I had my first doubts about the whole India experience. To live in such a cold house is not funny at all. But luckily my new roommates were there and took me with them to lunch somewhere in the city. It was nice to get to know new international people again, like I have been doing for the last 2 years. At one point we entered a dance studio because one my roomies was interested in taking lessons. After watching one of the lessons for a while the dance instructor closed the door and forced us to join them in learning some Indian dance moves. What the hell!? I didn’t sign up for that! But ok, let’s just go with the flow and make a fool out of myself. So I did… Sorry, no video material available. In the evening we sat all together in one room with some simple heaters, getting to know each other, having some food, listening to music and I gathered some more blankets for another cold night to come. The doubts were gone; I’m going to have a good time here.

Friday, Day 5. Everything goes so slowly here that I’m taking over this rhythm and am losing my Dutch productivity. Waking up, having breakfast and actually start doing something takes about 3 hours. Time to change, not too much, but just a bit. So I went to find a gym together with my Brazilian roommate Daniela, jogging. I found a decent one which I’m probably going to join. On our way back we stopped by the liquor store to buy some cheap alcohol. Feeling Dutch again. Later in the afternoon me and Ms. Brazil went to play some football with Indian people, 5 against 5, of course wearing my orange jersey again and showing them how the Dutch play football (no comments please). Back home, physically destroyed, I desperately needed a shower but I had to wait for 20 minutes to boil all the water, kind of annoying…
Friday night was clubbing night! With my roommates and a bunch of foreign and Indian friends they gathered over the past months we went to this rather empty club. Apparently it was too cold for the Indians to leave their house, which was perfectly understandable. We had a great time anyway and it was funny to see people from different countries having completely different ways of dancing. The club closed at 1.45 AM (!) and me, Maria and Daniela had some girl talk until 3. Then I passed out.

“Stop worrying about the potholes in the road and celebrate the journey.” – Fitzhugh Mullan

three Days, a million Impressions

Ok, so I am in India, about 7000 km away from home. And in these past 2 days I have seen and experienced so many wonderful, strange, new and extreme things that it is hard to organize everything in my head and put it on digital paper. The best thing is probably to start at the beginning and just go from there…

After a full week of partying, preparing, saying goodbye and not to forget, New Year’s Eve (which ended at around 6.30 in the morning instead of 1 AM which was the original plan), I was saying goodbye to my family at Schiphol Airport  on a Sunday morning, too tired to even realize what I was about to do. My first flight (11.40 AM) was to Helsinki in which I slept almost the entire time. There I had to spend about 5 hours, walking around a bit and eating way too expensive airport sandwiches, before I could board on my connecting flight to Delhi. After having dinner on the plane and watching Dinner for Schmucks, a baby on the plane decided it was afraid of flying just when I was ready to catch some sleep. It was then when I decided I hate babies. Finally, after a 7 or 8 hour flight (including 2 hours of sleep) I arrived at Delhi International Airport at Monday 7 AM, (2.30 at night Dutchy Time). A bit afraid of going outside where about 100 taxi drivers were eagerly waiting for Mr. Tourist, I had some Indian airport food first which was of course spicy, but no steam was coming out of my ears like I expected. Feeling rich after taking 5000 rupees out of the ATM, I looked for a taxi to bring me to New Delhi Railway Station, where my Lonely Planet travel guide (my bible for the next 3 months) advised me to go the International Tourist Bureau to buy a train ticket to my destination for that day: Chandigarh. That’s because in unofficial ticket offices they would overcharge me or sell me fake tickets. The first Indian guy I met said the Bureau was closed that day. Such bad luck! But he knew another Tourist Bureau that happened to be open and he was happy to bring me there. “Ok man, nice to meet you but you’re full of shit”, is what I thought but of course didn’t say. Finally I got into another taxi. The driver didn’t try to fool me but I was still very cautious. First things I noticed on the road: Army guy with a machine gun aiming on the traffic apparently looking for terrorists of some sort, people just standing on the side of the road doing absolutely nothing, a lot of honking and... ULTIMATE CHAOS! Bikes, cars, buses, bicycle rikshaws, taxis, tuk-tuk’s, all on the same highway passing each other left or right, cutting each other off, and suddenly in a matter of seconds: traffic jam. So my taxi driver obviously used the sidewalk and after a while decided to go into a shop to buy something and leave me behind for about 20 minutes. Makes perfect sense right?

Ok, so finally arrived at the station with literally thousands of people roaming around. Knowing that the Tourist Bureau was somewhere in the station, but not knowing where exactly, made me the perfect target. Suddenly a lot of people wanted to help me(!). I got send to many different directions and saw different (tourist) ticket offices but none of them seemed very official. I entered one so I could sit down and take a quick look in my travel Bible. It said that the Tourist Bureau I had to go to is situated in the main building of the station. Apparently I had already been close but the closer I got the more ‘helpful Indians’ send me in a wrong direction. That’s when I marched down to the main building, ignoring the people following me and wanting to ‘help’ me and eventually found what I was looking for. It was around 11 AM and I got a ticket for the train of 5.15 PM. So I had a lot of time to kill. With the help of my Bible I decided to go to a restaurant downtown. I took a bicycle rikshaw operated by an old skinny man with the leg power of a horse. He was very friendly and working incredibly hard to get me to my restaurant. The ride itself was crazy and chaotic. Some of the streets were so incredibly crowded! Almost impossible to go through and so many people all around us! Hundreds of Indians were constantly staring at me which made me feel quite uncomfortable and I decided not to use my camera yet, afraid of insulting people. The friendly old man dropped me off and after having my second Indian meal without any problems I decided to go back to the station as soon as possible, the streets were just too hectic for me and my luggage. Once on the platform in the station, so away from all the annoying people I met before, I met the real Indian people as I hoped they would be. I had some great conversations with just random Indians. One of them was an air force commander in the Indian army who was carrying a little baby girl in his arms. She blew a kiss in my direction. Very sweet! So now I love babies again(!) Another conversation was with an older Indian guy, around 50 years I think, and we talked about Indian politics. He also asked for my age. When I told him I was 23 years old, he started smiling in a funny way and said his daughter is of the same age. His facial expressions suggested an arranged marriage and I was very flattered. Our ways separated once the train came but immediately another super friendly guy started talking to me, Yogen, who became my travel buddy for the 4 hour trip to Chandigarh. We talked about a lot of different things and also met a very intelligent 10 year old girl who was reading a book about Anne Frank. When I told her I was Dutch she couldn’t be happier! She also loved languages so when I arrived at my destination we said goodbye in Hindi, Dutch, Spanish and French. Amazing!

Once in Chandigarh, I was picked up by my AIESEC contact Harmeet together with his brother Jasmeet, two proud Punjabi’s. Being really tired from travelling, all these new impressions and the lack of sleep, the only thing I was looking for was a bed. But they gave me such a warm welcome and such a nice meal cooked by their equally friendly mother that they pulled me through the evening. After dinner I touched the bed and got into a small coma. After a good night sleep, me and Harmeet had a big day planned and I also met his father. Guess what, also very friendly!  After a good breakfast Harmeet took me on the scooter to visit some of Chandigarh’s finest spots: Rock Garden (Artwork made from industrial and urban waste, beautiful!) and the Lake. During the day we met some of his (AIESEC) friends and everybody was really nice to me. This was a good start. However, we also passed some slums which was quite a shock. Makes you think about this sometimes unfair world… Still, Chandigarh is a good city to live in, much more organized than Delhi for instance. And deep down inside I’m still Dutch; the more organized the better!

Back ‘home’ at my host family I went to check Facebook for a minute and saw a whole lot of messages from friends around the world wishing me all the best and a bunch of friendship requests from the Indian people I met earlier. That really made my day. And then it became even better; Harmeet made me wear an orange turban! The best Dutch-Indian combination there is! In my opinion I look pretty good with a turban… We made some family pics followed by yet another delicious dinner. We had some nice conversations about the difference between Indian and Dutch culture followed by some Punjabi history. Another good day had ended.

I’m actually writing this late in the evening on the next day (Wednesday), of which I also have a lot to tell about. But I realize this story is already quite long and only covers 3 days so let’s stop here for the moment. And the real reason is that I’m tired and want to go to bed. I will try to update you guys again in the weekend, ok?

Houdoe

“Travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living.” – Miriam Beard

Next Destination: Chandigarh, India

Namasté!

After my first true adventure in Madrid, it's time for the next big thing. As most people who have been on exchange or experienced the wonders of backpacking already know, once you start travelling you cannot stop! You don't know that feeling? Too bad!
It's not that I haven't been travelling for the last year and a half. I mean, I went on weekend trips to Prague, Viena, Berlin, Köln, Milan, Munich and I'm actually writing this story on a shitty Ryan Air flight to Dublin. But I want to experience a true culture shock and so it's best to leave this continent.

Why I chose for India you might wonder? Well, suddenly, it was in my head. So I decided to go there, as simple as that. Life is already to complicated as it is so sometimes you just need to listen to your instincts.

When? I fly on January 2nd from Amsterdam, make a stop in Helsinki and then fly straight to India's fine capital of Delhi. There I have to take a bus or train to Chandigarh which is approximately 250 km further up north. Three months later, on April 2nd, I will fly back to this cold country (hopefull with a nice tan).

                                                                    What am I suppose to do there?

With the help of AIESEC (worldwide student NGO) I managed to arrange an internship at a primary school in Mohali (Chandigarh). There I'm supposed to teach English to little children between the age of 4 and 7. At least, that's what my contacts in India told me.. I have absolutely no freakin' idea how much English these kids already know which makes it pretty difficult to already start preparing lesson material. I guess I just have to be very flexible when I get there. After 10 weeks of being all serious I'm planning to make a trip around India for 2 weeks. Really looking forward to that! Got some crazy places in mind to visit, like Varanasi. Google it!

I hope to put some stories and pictures here at least once every two weeks when I'm there. And you can always contact me on Skype (dennis.van.erp) or Facebook, although I'm not sure how the internet facilities are at my school/accomodation. And keep in mind that the time difference is about 4 and a half hours!

Hope to have updated you guys sufficiently for the moment. Any questions? (Wow, I already sound like a teacher!) We will land on Dublin Airport in a few minutes and I'm gonna get myself some Guinness so this story ends here.