Delhi, Wednesday 30 January 2013
Yesterday morning I found my way to the address I had for the Indian coordinator of the volunteering agency. I'd asked them what the best way to get there from central Delhi was, but the question wasn't answered in their last reply, so I figured the Metro was a good bet.
The journey involved a short tuk-tuk (auto-rickshaw) ride from the Tibetan colony to the nearest Metro station and then a ride along most of that Metro line to the southern side of Delhi. The Metro is superb - the freshest, cleanest thing I've seen here. London could learn a thing or two. The station announcements are in English and Hindi and there's a panel above the doors with a moving light to show you which station you're at. It was only 27 rupees (about 30p) for the journey along most of the line, about an hour. Incredible, really.
Thanks to the wonderful Google maps, I'd a fair idea where I was going at the other end, but no idea what the area would look like. As the Metro train left central Delhi behind, it finally came up above ground and I saw that I was in an area with a lot of upmarket shops, malls and apartment complexes, along with business parks - office towers with the names of international companies emblazoned on them: Mercedes Benz, Dell, KPMG. It had upper/middle-class India written all over it.
I found my way to the address I was looking for - a big apartment complex, complete with traffic barriers and security guards at the front and inside. It felt like an American gated community. I figured this wasn't a business/office address, then. Arriving at the right block in the complex, a guard let me in. I was looking for flat 72. I took a punt it'd be on the seventh floor. The lift opened into a corridor and I walked along until I found number 72, right at one end. It was dimly lit, although it was 10am.
I stood there in front of this dark door, thinking to myself, 'I could be sold into slavery or anything. I could knock this door and never be heard of again.' I looked at it for a few seconds... should I just do a runner? I rapped the door, of course, and a smiling Indian woman opened it. 'Rajan?' I said, the name of the coordinator. She nodded and opened the door wider for me to come in. I stepped inside just as two young American women came up the hall and into the living room. I have to say I felt quite relieved to see them. They were leaving later that day. Having had their induction week, they were off to start their volunteer stints near Dharamsala.
The coordinator appeared and greeted me. He later told me he'd been in bed until I arrived, and is adjusting to life with a one-month-old baby. He said he'd given me a different address to go to for my induction week, but it wasn't a problem - he'd take me over there later. I was a bit baffled, but on going back through old emails I saw that in his first email he had indeed given me another location to turn up at. Whoops.
While the other volunteers were packing, he quietly confided to me that he arranges volunteering in India for a number of volunteer agencies, including some of the big, well-known international ones, as well as the smaller one based in Nepal that I was using. He's from Nepal originally, and had worked directly for the Nepali organisation before coming to India. Some of the big agencies charge their volunteers quite a lot (thousands of dollars/pounds) for their volunteering experiences, but by going through the Nepali one I was essentially cutting out the middle man and therefore saving a lot of money. He asked me not to mention the difference in price to the others - why leave them feeling aggrieved? And they do get a bit more service (insurance, tours, etc) for their money - but still. I'd no problem with that. Who would it benefit for me to do that?
It was ultimately decided that I should stay at this apartment, rather than going to the original hostel address. That suited me fine. It seemed like a decent place and area. I chatted to the others for a bit - as well as the two Americans, there were three Columbians, two of whom had been studying in China for six months. There were three other women in the house, and I wasn't sure who they all were. I figured one was Rajan's wife - maybe the others were family members.
Lunch appeared, after which I tagged along with the volunteers on their last trip to the local street market and the mall, to pick up some food for their bus ride. They set off to catch their bus in the afternoon, and then there was one - me. At least I'd have a room to myself - complete with ensuite bathroom.
Rajan apologised for the day having been a bit chaotic, with sorting out the other volunteers, and that we'd sit down after dinner for a proper chat. Then he left, along with his wife and one of the other women. I now knew, courtesy of the other volunteers, that the extra two women were his maids - two sisters. Apparently they'd normally work at several houses, making meals mainly, but Rajan had them full-time at his house. One of them also slept there. Labour is cheap, the volunteers said. I assumed Rajan must have explained all this to them. I suppose with volunteers trooping through all the time, and a new baby, he would need some help in the house.
I spent the early evening with one of the maids, Nargis, who doesn't speak any English. We communicated a bit, courtesy of my pigeon efforts at Hindi from my phrasebook. If I understood it correctly, she has four children - two of whom are 16 and 17, and the others around 11, 12. I think they're in Kolkata (Calcutta), in the eastern part of India, where she's from. Rajan arrived back around 8.30pm and took me through what would happen during this week, along with giving me half of lesson one - about India's culture, economy, religions, etc.
So, all very informal.
Yesterday and today, I'd two days of sightseeing. More about that in the next post.
Yesterday morning I found my way to the address I had for the Indian coordinator of the volunteering agency. I'd asked them what the best way to get there from central Delhi was, but the question wasn't answered in their last reply, so I figured the Metro was a good bet.
The journey involved a short tuk-tuk (auto-rickshaw) ride from the Tibetan colony to the nearest Metro station and then a ride along most of that Metro line to the southern side of Delhi. The Metro is superb - the freshest, cleanest thing I've seen here. London could learn a thing or two. The station announcements are in English and Hindi and there's a panel above the doors with a moving light to show you which station you're at. It was only 27 rupees (about 30p) for the journey along most of the line, about an hour. Incredible, really.
 |
| Look familiar? They even say 'Mind the Gap'. |
 |
| Platform on the Metro |
 |
| On the Metro train |
Thanks to the wonderful Google maps, I'd a fair idea where I was going at the other end, but no idea what the area would look like. As the Metro train left central Delhi behind, it finally came up above ground and I saw that I was in an area with a lot of upmarket shops, malls and apartment complexes, along with business parks - office towers with the names of international companies emblazoned on them: Mercedes Benz, Dell, KPMG. It had upper/middle-class India written all over it.
I found my way to the address I was looking for - a big apartment complex, complete with traffic barriers and security guards at the front and inside. It felt like an American gated community. I figured this wasn't a business/office address, then. Arriving at the right block in the complex, a guard let me in. I was looking for flat 72. I took a punt it'd be on the seventh floor. The lift opened into a corridor and I walked along until I found number 72, right at one end. It was dimly lit, although it was 10am.
 |
| Aforementioned dim corridor |
I stood there in front of this dark door, thinking to myself, 'I could be sold into slavery or anything. I could knock this door and never be heard of again.' I looked at it for a few seconds... should I just do a runner? I rapped the door, of course, and a smiling Indian woman opened it. 'Rajan?' I said, the name of the coordinator. She nodded and opened the door wider for me to come in. I stepped inside just as two young American women came up the hall and into the living room. I have to say I felt quite relieved to see them. They were leaving later that day. Having had their induction week, they were off to start their volunteer stints near Dharamsala.
The coordinator appeared and greeted me. He later told me he'd been in bed until I arrived, and is adjusting to life with a one-month-old baby. He said he'd given me a different address to go to for my induction week, but it wasn't a problem - he'd take me over there later. I was a bit baffled, but on going back through old emails I saw that in his first email he had indeed given me another location to turn up at. Whoops.
While the other volunteers were packing, he quietly confided to me that he arranges volunteering in India for a number of volunteer agencies, including some of the big, well-known international ones, as well as the smaller one based in Nepal that I was using. He's from Nepal originally, and had worked directly for the Nepali organisation before coming to India. Some of the big agencies charge their volunteers quite a lot (thousands of dollars/pounds) for their volunteering experiences, but by going through the Nepali one I was essentially cutting out the middle man and therefore saving a lot of money. He asked me not to mention the difference in price to the others - why leave them feeling aggrieved? And they do get a bit more service (insurance, tours, etc) for their money - but still. I'd no problem with that. Who would it benefit for me to do that?
It was ultimately decided that I should stay at this apartment, rather than going to the original hostel address. That suited me fine. It seemed like a decent place and area. I chatted to the others for a bit - as well as the two Americans, there were three Columbians, two of whom had been studying in China for six months. There were three other women in the house, and I wasn't sure who they all were. I figured one was Rajan's wife - maybe the others were family members.
Lunch appeared, after which I tagged along with the volunteers on their last trip to the local street market and the mall, to pick up some food for their bus ride. They set off to catch their bus in the afternoon, and then there was one - me. At least I'd have a room to myself - complete with ensuite bathroom.
 |
| The Galleria Mall, near the house |
Rajan apologised for the day having been a bit chaotic, with sorting out the other volunteers, and that we'd sit down after dinner for a proper chat. Then he left, along with his wife and one of the other women. I now knew, courtesy of the other volunteers, that the extra two women were his maids - two sisters. Apparently they'd normally work at several houses, making meals mainly, but Rajan had them full-time at his house. One of them also slept there. Labour is cheap, the volunteers said. I assumed Rajan must have explained all this to them. I suppose with volunteers trooping through all the time, and a new baby, he would need some help in the house.
 |
| The living room at Rajan's apartment |
I spent the early evening with one of the maids, Nargis, who doesn't speak any English. We communicated a bit, courtesy of my pigeon efforts at Hindi from my phrasebook. If I understood it correctly, she has four children - two of whom are 16 and 17, and the others around 11, 12. I think they're in Kolkata (Calcutta), in the eastern part of India, where she's from. Rajan arrived back around 8.30pm and took me through what would happen during this week, along with giving me half of lesson one - about India's culture, economy, religions, etc.
So, all very informal.
Yesterday and today, I'd two days of sightseeing. More about that in the next post.
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