In Continuum.

There and Back Again Part II: City of Chaos

So it began,our bus trip from New Delhi all the way to Babina,400km away.I remember the longest bus trip i ever took,and that was merely 6 hours.This one was twice the duration,and armed with my neck pillow,iPod,and the welling excitement inside of me we boarded the bus and got ourselves seated.The indian dude who helped us with the bags then came onto the bus,mumbling something in Hindi.None of us understood,not even the indian guys(Afterall they knew only Tamil).Then it came to me,with that little hand motion of his,when he rubbed his index finger to his thumb,with his palm facing up.He was asking for a tip.

So there it was,the first showcase of desperation from an Indian citizen.Despite the constant urge from the tour guide not to give him any tips,some of us were kind enough to spare some Rupees for that guy.But then again,it's not like we asked him to carry the bags or whatever.Besides,his driving skills were horrendous,and almost got us killed numerous times along the road.

It's a funny tradition in India not to use their rearview mirror or any form of signals avaliable in an average car.In India every driver assumes the road to be theirs,and that nobody can or should come in between him and his destination.When a driver intends to switch lanes,instead of looking through the rear mirror for oncoming traffic,he would press the horn and then do a steep cut into the next lane.When turn round corners,just in case an innocent cow or kid's around the corner,the driver would once again press his horn to warn whoever's before the car to get out of his way.They have rearview mirrors,of course.But for reason most of them are folded inwards,not used at all.


Blow Horn.Bloody idiots.

Then there are the signs all over the back of most trucks,encouraging fellow motorists to blow their horns,to prevent any sort of accidents from occuring.Each driver has very distinct way of pressing their horns,and some even cojured up some melody.Not that they were pleasent to the ears,though.They were just noise,and unnecessary ones too.So there we were,even in the middle of the night,shielding our ears to the blaring horn of the driver down a long empty road to warn the cows in the dark.Genius.Sodding genius.Screw the lanes on the roads of New Delhi,because nobody ever follows those lanes.A three lane road(If marked at all)would become a five to six lane road depending on the level of obnoxiousness of the motorists,which is in India's case very very high.People just squeeze their way through between vehicles,threatening to crash into each other as they wind their way through one another.

Here and there,even in the city centre,you find slumps everywhere.People living in tents,little wooden huts,or just a simple mattress upon the ground.A whole family squeezing under a small shelter,upon the curb between two sides of the road.It was an interesting,and at the same time saddening sight indeed.In the bus as i looked through the windows,i sensed the poverty of the country before my eyes.The reality of it all,how real poverty really is.It just has a different effect,i'd say.When you see it on National Geographic and seeing it first hand.It's just a totally different experience.As we drove on down the horrible traffic i looked on at the beggars and the homeless,staring back at me blankly and hopelessly,as if a stare into the bus would earn him the next meal,or maybe just a warm cup of tea.Very sad.

Above the dust and the noise on the streets,life goes on at the side of the roads.It's a weird sight however,to see dark streets and corners at merely seven in the evening.There are no well lid streets in Delhi,only part of the city have well-organised street lighting system.The road leading out of the airport was badly maintained,with hawkers everywhere along the streets,expanding their 'territories' onto the road,blocking out traffics.Cows and bulls pulling carts down the streets at their own unhurried paces,and fruits in stalls attracting hordes of flies and hungry passerbys.Merely an hour into the trip from the airport and i already witnessed five person urinating at the side of the street in full view of...well,everyone.Buses crowded to the edges with people,some struggling to breathe out of the window,but dared not due to the dust and smoke everywhere.Some spat out of the window at the feet out street venders stationed at traffic lights,selling everything from air-refreshners to balloons,from sunscreens to souvenirs for the tourists.You name it,they have it.It was just...a big BIG mess.Everywhere.

An analogy was trying to describe to Martin might help you guys in the understanding of the chaos in India.Imagine a three year old kid playing Sim City.He takes the mouse,goes to the "Road" icon and press it.Then,over the land he starts to dot the land with badly placed roads.Then he goes to the "House" icon and place them randomly over the land as well.Repeat the process with other icons like "Cars","Markets","Street lights" and "Cows" you get the rough idea of a typical New Delhi street life,i swear.


Waves.

We had dinner at the less than average restaurant called "Waves".It was my first experience of Indian food,and it was just OKAY.It was over-rated by the tour guide,saying that it was one of those "tourist attractions".I guess in a way i had high expectations for Indian food,considering my love for Pratas in Singapore.


Part of Platoon 5,trying to enjoy their meal.

After the dinner was the continuous ride to Babina camp again.Along the way we had little stops here and there,for toilet breaks or the so-called "Stretching Breaks".My legs were crammed up in front of me,because the dear sergeant(Lee Ze Yan,son of a bitch)was kind enough to lean his chair all the way to the back.I am a tall guy,and thus have long legs.I know you are big and all but,please spare a thought for me will you?I was frustrated,but at the same time worn out.So i decided not to seek to the bottom of that matter,and took things as they were.

The night grew cold,and i woke up in the middle of the night as the bus stopped for another one of the numerous toilet breaks.I opened my window,and a gust of cold wind swept in.I stuck my camera out and took a few photographs of passing cars,blaring their horns at us as if we were about to crash into them.It was growing colder by the hour,and in the cloudless sky Orion quietly shone proudly.I looked out for a while,and soon enough i found myself in another drowsy daze as the bus continued on its journey through the long long night.


*insert loud and annoying car horn here*

The morning sun finally came,and we were greeted with the first sight of the desert in hours.Long stretch of land as far as the eyes can see,and small mounts here and there dotted with bushes.There were people living in little towns there too,but curiously i didnt see a difference in the living standard eight hours ago and then.They were,the same.Children running around their front lawns naked,brushing their teeth with dirty water from the gutters.People sweeping dust off their porches,and the cows continued to munch their grass all day long.In my mind i thought,this is a country were the animals might just be more well-off than the humans.It's a country where you can scold somebody "You live like a dog" and actually make some sense.


Miles and miles of this.


Worn down to my knees.


Steamed Potato.

Twelve hours,and three toilet breaks later we arrived at the camp,worn out.I was tired,exhausted and absolutely used.I collapsed in the bunk,barely having the time to explore the surroundings."I'll leave that to tomorrow",i thought to myself.And perhaps till the next entry,too.