Now I'm so there! Rein been hurled into this different culture.
landed on Wednesday evening in Chennai. What is happening here, despite any description, you can do so much before reading about this country or talk to India about Travellers, you might just have seen to be believed, and perhaps to understand at some point!
The flight and stopover in Delhi were still ok, ok in the sense that it was expecting my western thinking, friendly flight attendants, clean + safe airplane (when I consider what I have already read all of negative reports on Air India), a morderner with Western standards comparable Airport (via the comments are enough), no lost luggage (this was my biggest concern). The 9 hour break, I sit around with sleep, and spent reading. Evening, then the domestic flight to Chennai was where I landed against 23 clock time.
leaving the airport building began sometime around midnight my India adventure and connected to the first shock. I thought I'm in the wrong movie. The airport is a huge construction site, an Indian told me later he would sometimes be as modern as Delhi, maybe in the next millennium. All the first impressions of Delhi Airport here were destroyed within minutes, the Indian system took me on. What I expected, no idea, as I said, one can still imagine such a lot, it does not hit close to reality! I push my trolley
from the airport building, which is already dirty and depraved. I need a taxi booked to come to my "hotel". In D. I had made me smart definitely take a so-called "prepaid taxi", fixed price and the driver also goes to where you want. As soon as I walked through the door greeted me just the sound of the Indian road traffic, honking and shouting period. In addition, left and right behind the bars blocking hundreds of people, some with names on signs, as much as I would have liked to apply nachhin in my name to read on such a plate. After a few meters I saw a bunch of people before a simple wooden table, with a cardboard sign over "prepaid taxi". The air is muggy and oppressive, even at night it cools off here, not particularly, at least in the south. I'm tired, hungry, sweaty, would just like as soon as possible in a clean bed with previous shower. Then arrived at the taxi stand in front of a loud noise I mean the guy does not, I knew what should be the price. He lays out a receipt with a higher price, ok I think in the very first night you have to haggle, it too early to start for the countless other times.
No, I would not understand, it adds another passenger, an Indian, told me in English, the one here is paid a fee only at the booth, and later gives the driver the fare and the receipt.
of a receipt in hand, I put myself in a long queue at the roadside, just like about 100 meters from the airport, countless people the cars squeeze through by a hair, an incredible noise, Flue gas, stuffy. I know the taxis can park here should not have to pay a fee, they always go in circles. Then everything goes very fast, it gets hectic, the type of wood on my table writes Qutittung number plate "Thats your taxi", the driver recognized me, grabs my big backpack, throwing him into the passenger seat, I hit the back seat. Phew, ever passed the first hurdle think it is still a long night.
I've also read that one to the driver until the receipt given at the end of the ride, otherwise it can happen anywhere else and then he breaks forth more calls. So I show him only, and explain where I want, I had printed out the address. We drive away from the airport to the city. One knows it, there are no traffic rules, before each intersection just gehubt, then drove over it, red lights, a fun escape, there exists "normal" driving on the left, cows, humans, numerous types of scooters and motor bikes, see through my window I fly by the road trains, semi-demolished houses, ragged men in the gutter.
attacks Suddenly the driver, a young Indian of his family with 2 children fed hereby, the cell phone. If I had a No from the hotel. Why, I do not understand me correctly first, think he wants to ask for directions, which I did before I asked at least 3 times if he knows him. Typically Indian as I learn later frequently to always say yes, and ask yourself rather then 10 by a ride with a white can not miss.
The following is a brief conversation to get then announced by the young family man, the hotel was not in that of my district, it is somewhere else!
Great, I think, had a really bad feeling but what can I do hope that I can trust him, and especially in the middle of the night, arriving there somewhere and he turns into a dark side street.
It came as it had. At some point we want to be a multistory depraved, for Indian conditions normal-looking house on it with the name of my hotel. The price has naturally increased because of the detour around Rs 50, it is only a few cents, but at this time (actually today) for me to feel about the principle. I am complaining, refer to my receipt, it helps anything, I press the Rs 400 in the hand with the words "For Your Children", a short embarrassed smile on his face, at least this small satisfaction I have.
This is the first "fraud" was, one could also say learn the hard way that every one of the first go there once paid. The second should not be long in coming, at the front desk of the so-called hotel, more like a multi-storey Apartment building looks like, I know that the price confirmed to me by email for a room today would have increased! Again my principled comes up, now coupled with emerging anger, I repeat I will only pay that price here, so I should go first time the application forms and Case description sleep. An Indian
towed up my backpack and accompanied me to my first class Zimmer.Damit takes the day, this evening a grand finale, should by now I realized I am in India and not in Europe.
So, a room I think we in Europe do not even see the last railway station area. A double bed which I knew after one look, I consider that me with my own sheets, lay hold not even to the ceiling. A TV in the corner, the ceiling fan whirring in the back corner of a closet I did not even open my. Two windows with grids, at least sure that a flap I have a gap, and erlbicke a house wall, pipes, no, I'm not sure, maybe a bathroom, namely a Toillettenkasten me I see!
is The best thing about the room, the Indian-held bath, verrosteteter means in the wall installed shower head, two valves, which are anyway only cold water, a versiefte toilet bowl, a sink, a faucet, a mirror, a plastic bucket, two small cup (first in the new Guest House was I explained that this is for the toilet, toilet paper are in fact generally not ind. Toilets is, therefore, manual cleaning with the left hand + water). But I've own it.
I have to overcome much, it helps anything, I'm so sweaty, I need a shower anyway. More or less I hop between the jets of water through it, and put me at some point to 2 clock to bed, no, thanks be to God brought to my sheets. The worst thing about this room but the smell, a musty, old smell, not to describe what it is or from where, the whole room survived it, I do rub me a little toothpaste on your nose, it helps only briefly.
So this is my first night in India, wow. Although I am dead tired, but it would in no sleep, more or less just a doze, thoughts shoot through my head, always look back to door, I feel is not really sure the money is under the pillow, the "defense spray" at hand.
The next day I will check out, oh in the morning there is almost cabaret, the guy at the front desk asks "How are you doing". Prima I say, sleep well, pleasant room, the ironic smile hard resist! "You look fresh," he replied then. I say no more!
The rest soon: a short walk through the streets, confusing, hot, stressful, noisy, People with legs like straws. Changed money, paying the increased price hotel, with motor rickshaw to the bus terminal, air-conditioned 4 hours. Bus trip to Pondicherry, an evening booked earlier in the Guest House, happiness, the room is already free, I open the door to paradise, clean, bright, no noise of cars, sea view.
Today the 4th Day. Have in my Guest House talked to several people, it is normal to go every so when the first comes time to this subcontinent, the poverty, the filth, the beggars, have now approached me about 3, all women, one with a baby the poor, difficult, once I gave Rs 10 you must develop your own feel for it.
It is probably still take a few days, it simply blows all Western standards, rules, conventions. It is like a mirror, brings one to think, can also be a great opportunity, a further, fundamental!
But as far as I'm not, step by step, each day with the noise of poverty make the heat, eventually one hears, one begins to see then what's Hiner the filth, the misery, for which India for thousands of years is known, something which is no longer in the west there, concealed, suppressed, lost by the material, here, where materialism has not (yet) taken over completely the upper hand, here it is by flashing even when you're open, ready.
0 comments:
Post a Comment