India and Nepal, 1986-87
by Jack Hoeschler
December 25, 1986 – Christmas Day, Bombay
I am sitting before the balcony doorway of our room at the Taj Mahal Hotel looking at the sunrise over the Gateway of India and the harbor boats. I am level with and behind the pigeon covered dome on one wing of the old Victorian section of the hotel so that the scene is framed on the right by this remnant of the Raj while the left side is framed by two very large roller cranes unloading freighters in the port. It is the type of picture you see in books, showing the old and the new side by side but too large in scale to see many details of the poverty below.
We arrived last night on a four-hour early evening flight from Bangkok. The flight was both an introduction and warning of what was coming. Indeed, Linda saw it as a living Charles Addams cartoon appropriate to a trip into another world. The flight originated in Hong Kong and was going on to Dubai and seemed to be a magnet for all varieties of humanity that make up India and the Middle East. The Cathay Pacific crew should get hazardous duty pay for such a flight. Many were constantly ringing the stewardess’ call buttons to get more free drinks. All variety of carry-on luggage and packages was stowed wherever possible. A group of Arabs in flowing robes lounged over several seats looking like they only needed some pillows and a hookah to complete the setting. Other black turbaned men looked like they could qualify for a lineup of terrorists if one were needed. One man came back to the galley near Linda during meal service to get another drink and proceeded to press his pelvis firmly against the poor stewardess who had her back turned and was bending over as she was getting trays from a food cart. She handled the situation well and later commented that this was actually far from the worst that these flights can get.
If they do get worse, they must need a special crew to clean the bathrooms in mid-flight. Fritz said it made a group of Boy Scouts on a campout look neat. Clearly many of the passengers were unacquainted with western style toilets and the admonitions against putting towels or other foreign matter in them that are printed on them. One that I entered had clearly been used in the traditional manner as could be seen from the water everywhere and the shoe prints on the toilet seat itself. All I could do was laugh. Linda did not join me I that response.
When we left the plane it looked like it had been the scene of a four day hijacking without air conditioning. I would hate to have to experience the real thing.
The hotel has a large artificial Christmas tree in the lobby and was alive with people at 11:15 when we arrived after a harrowing drive from the airport in a dilapidated cab. The traffic was thick even at that time of night and on one of our stops a beggar with just 6-inch flippers for arms pressed us for alms. Just one more incident in one of the more offbeat Christmas Eve’s we’ve ever had.
After breakfast we took a small ferry to Elephanta Island, about an hour out of Bombay Harbor. Elephanta Island is the major tourist attraction of Bombay and features large man-made caves carved in the seventh century AD as a shrine to Shiva, the Hindu god of creation, sustenance, and destruction. In the famous central carving, the Trimurti, Shiva is shown with one body and three faces on his head – the female face of the creator, the male face of the destroyer and the somewhat androgynous face of the sustainer. At various side altars Shiva is shown in his manifestation as a fusion of male and female opposites and, with arms and legs furiously flailing but head serene, in the dance of life.
It is interesting to think about some of the metaphysical aspects of Shivistic Hinduism in the ancient temple from which you can look across the harbor and see one of the largest nuclear power plants in the world. India seems always to provide these sharp juxtapositions of the ancient and the very modern, the mythological and the scientific.
When we returned to the hotel the Gateway of India park was crowded with people picnicking and just standing around. There were about a hundred people standing outside the drive-up to the Taj Mahal Hotel watching the entry. At first, we thought that some celebrity must be expected but after a while we realized that this was just the usual situation with the curious Indians. We were to see this again the next day when we walked to the Prince of Wales Museum. The Mogul paintings were beautiful and numerous but the thing that was most fascinating was the crowd of people that would tend to follow along behind us, matching our every move and watching our every step. I don’t think as much attention would be drawn by one of the Mogul princes had he stepped from one of the paintings and walked out of the Museum.
After the museum we walked to Victoria Train Station. I wanted to show Kristen and Fritz how the Tiffin tins containing the home packed lunches of the office workers are transported by train to town and then delivered by the untouchables to the proper offices all over town and then delivered again by train to the home of the worker before he finishes work; all without ever mixing lunches for anyone. Unfortunately, we got delayed on our walk by a detour through a squatters settlement along one of the streets, and missed the Tiffin transfer. It is again amazing to think of how complex and yet efficient this system is even though it is surrounded by a city that seems barely able to provide the most minimal of public services.
From the train station we took a taxi ride to the hanging gardens and along the Back Bay. We had no more than gotten in the cab than we realized that this must be one of those horn powered cabs that were circling our hotel Christmas Eve. Before the driver even started the engine he sounded the horn and then, for the next twenty minutes of our drive, he honked his way everywhere whether there were cars or pedestrians anywhere near. Clearly this was done either to propitiate some guardian spirit of cab drivers or was necessary to confirm that the generator was still working. When we rolled up to the Taj Mahal with the horn blaring, I thought we should be met by a 21-gun salute in return. The beturbaned doorman merely greeted us as usual and we headed to the pool for some R&R.
December 29 and 30, 1986 – Udaipur
Our flight from Aurangabad was delayed 5 hours because of fog. Actually, the fog was present for only two hours, but the plane was not released from Bombay until the weather cleared in Aurangabad and then, after it landed, they carried out a very painstaking and time consuming search of every passenger and all carry-on luggage.
Clearly the security has been increased in anticipation of New Year’s holiday troubles. We read every day of new outbreaks of communal violence in the Punjab and Goa, as well as other areas. It is interesting to be reading at the same time in Freedom at Midnight about the tremendous communal violence at the time of Indian Independence and Partition. It doesn’t take much to shatter the civility of the country where everyone is so religious and the religions are both diverse and, in many instances, extreme.
It is interesting to think about how this country would be different had a Marxist/Leninist system been imposed on it. At first blush I think it might have helped. The way the communists substitute the state religion for the indigenous religions may be the only way to bring about broad scale change. But as soon as you think more about Hinduism as a religion you realize that it could be very hard to stamp out because of its unorganized features. There is no real priesthood and certainly no hierarchy to replace. There is no real creed or even a definitive sacred book. The countless gods are not jealous and always willing to leave room for another, even Lenin. It has a very elemental, primitive quality to it and it is this very lack of sophistication that gives it its strength.
Perhaps Gandhi’s approach was the best. Approach any effort to change the country at the village level using the religion as a positive tool instead of a hinderance.
January 3, 1987 - Delhi
We toured archaeological type sites this morning with stops at the Red Fort and the Jami Masjid in old Delhi. The latter is the largest mosque in India. Just getting to it is an adventure since it is surrounded by narrow streets clogged with bicycle rickshaws, tuk-tuks, and an occasional car or small truck. Gridlock is close at any given moment. We have had a car and driver supplied by the local agents for Linda’ company (National Computer Systems/NCS) and that has definitely helped. If nothing else, the car is an asylum to which one can flee to avoid the crush of people.
Being big helps me to keep the mobs at bay, but Linda is finding the constant jostling she receives from Indian men to be very irritating. On our tour of the Red Fort she finally left one of the museums because many guys seem to use the museum as an excuse to push up against women. We note from articles in the newspapers that this behavior has a name – “Eve teasing.” It seems to be a variation on the theme that gives rise to “bride burning.” The situation is reported almost every third day in which some young, and not so young, wives are driven to suicide by the husband and his family because they feel her dowry was not sufficient or not as much as was promised. Clearly the position of many women in Indian society is not a happy one.
The local agent for NCS has told us more about the problem as well. He has two daughters who are active in his business (he is a manufacturer’s representative) and both are quite accomplished. Indeed, we understand that one of the daughters is effectively running the Delhi office for him. They, too, complain about the hassles a woman must put up with just walking on the street. In addition, one of the daughters is now getting a divorce after about 12 years of marriage and it appears that her only rights are to leave with whatever jewelry she can carry on her person. The house, the business and the other assets of the marriage go to the man.
Interestingly enough, Nepal, which is about 80% Hindu and 20% Buddhist, does not seem to have either the dowry system or “Eve teasing.” Linda and Kristen had a much easier time in Nepal. I would also be interested to see if the same situation prevails in the south of India.
The air in New Delhi has been awful. The smog is such that we can only see about a block or two from the sixth floor of our hotel. We are all getting sore throats as a result. Many Japanese tourists are using surgical masks as they do in Japan. While the situation gets a little better in the country it is still a problem there because of all the cooking fires. We understand (and later confirm) that the same prevails even in Nepal. The valleys are all choked with smoke from cooking fires and brick kilns. You need to get to places like the jungle camps before you start to get clean air.
The contrast between Old and New Delhi is quite striking. Old Delhi has very narrow, crowded streets, while New Delhi is laid out on the scale of Washington DC with broad boulevards and wide streets. Indeed, from the air one is struck by how much the new parts of Delhi sprawl out into the countryside with large and low building and housing blocks. Many of these appear, from the air again, to be well designed by competent architects. It would be interesting to visit them and see how the actual construction has been carried out and whether they are merely new slums.
We visited the Indian Crafts Museum which is in a large exposition park. The Museum brings to Delhi craftspeople from various parts of India for a month at a time to demonstrate and sell their crafts in a sort of village setting. It is quite nice (like a permanent “In Praise of Hands” Exhibit). What is especially interesting is that these crafts are not dying out but are viewed as a source of future employment in many parts of India. Clearly, Kashmiri hand-knotted rug making is expanding at a time when rugs from Iran cannot be obtained. We have run onto a very skilled miniature painter at the Crafts Museum and plan to buy several of his versions of old Mughal miniatures. From the looks of the museum, he is doing every bit as fine a work. This is similar to mainland China where the quality of modern crafts is clearly as good as that of the antiques.
The only problem with the miniature paintings is that the finest work is done on ivory. As a result, these cannot be legally imported into the States and, after next month, will not be able to be exported from India. The miniature painter seems perfectly aware of this (though he doesn’t volunteer it) but does not seem worried. Clearly, he should be looking for a plastic substitute substrate on which to do his work. I don’t think it would adversely affect the final product at all.
Once again, the real problem with these crafts is distribution. If one could develop the appropriate infrastructure to provide the orders, the capital and the distribution and sales of the products in the West, there could be quite a demand for the handicrafts. Given the long distance India has to go to provide work and income to its residents, there is a lot of capacity in the system for very inexpensive but nevertheless fine work. It is interesting that India thus views handicrafts as a growth industry.
January 5-7, 1987 – Delhi to Agra to Khajuraho
India Airlines (not to be confused with Air India, the internal carrier) has two tourist circuits in the north. The first runs from Bombay to Aurangabad (Ellora and Ajanta Caves), to Udaipur, to Jodpur, to Jaipur to Delhi. The second runs from Delhi to Agra to Khajuraho to Varanasi to Delhi. Each hop is about 45 minutes at most and the flight begins at a ridiculous time for a tourist flight (c. 6:30 am – be at the airport at least an hour before flight time). The chief trouble is that they get serious ground fog in India on winter mornings and these flights are invariably delayed for 3-5 hours. Somehow the system does not seem able to adapt its schedule to this problem even though they know that all these airports have poor radar and instrumental landing facilities.
Thus, it is that we had to get up at 4 am in Delhi to get to the airport in time for a flight that did not actually leave until about 10 am. The flight from Agra two days later was delayed four hours and the flight from Khajuraho to Varanasi was 4 hours late in arriving at Khajuraho, sat on the ground for 4 more hours (ostensibly waiting for ground fog to clear at Varanasi) and was finally cancelled altogether because the crew can only work for 11 hours. Moreover, if they were to fly to Varanasi, they would be unable to fly on to Delhi where the plane was needed the next morning.
The plane from Khajuraho was filled with people wanting to go to Varanasi and the Khajuraho agent gave us the choice of getting off the plane and waiting for the flight the next day (which might also be delayed and which might not have room for all of us) or returning to Delhi (via Agra), there to get a 6:30 pm flight to Varanasi on which seats were promised to us. All elected to return to Delhi.
The Indian businessman sitting next to Linda pointed out that there was serious danger that we were merely getting the bum’s rush. He was right. We found later that evening and on numerous occasions since then that the favorite response of the bureaucracy is to shift the problem to someone else. We returned to Delhi, arriving 5 minutes before the scheduled departure time of the flight to Varanasi. The plane was held alright, but everyone was again sent through security (a 1 ½ hour process) and only 50 instead of 68 necessary seats were available on the Varanasi fight. After a further hour delay the flight was formally cancelled with no explanation as to what was to be done with us.
(JGH’s diary stops here, with subsequent adventures recorded in letters to family. Fortunately, our savvy travel agent, Del Parkhill, had booked A&K to handle the next trip leg, Jan 8-Jan 17, a splendid R&R. Jan 8-13 was spent in Bandhavgarh National Park where we were the sole guests in a maharajah’s lodge, our base for hiking and riding elephants in search of wildlife viewing. Jan 14-17 we spend in Tiger Tops in Nepal, followed by a few days in Kathmandu. Then back to Delhi to wrap up; we fly to Cairo on January 23 for a month in Egypt.)
January 8, 1987--Khajuraho (letter to Jack’s brother and family)
Dear Jake, Mo and Tori,
I hope this finds everyone in good shape after the holidays. As we went out of telephone range just before Christmas it sounded from Roger like progress was being made vis a vis Wayne and Tryp. Good luck.
I have written Skip Johnson asking him to call you to discuss the kind of boat I should get for next summer. I did not categorically say it should be an “E” but if there isn’t a good M-20 fleet at White Bear, I’m not sure what other choices might be big enough. You should talk with him and give him further directions. I also said you would know how to get a check (from Roger) if necessary.
The trip continues to go well. India is clearly more arduous than the rest. I think it is the most interesting, but Linda has started to dream that cobras are crawling under her doors. We have acquired new appreciation for the scenes in “Heat and Dust” and “Passage to India” where the women go a little crazy after too much heat, dust and pressing Indian throngs. I am developing some wonderful images for a multi-media show on the place. The sounds are an important part – the bleating of the snake charmers pipe every time you come out of your hotel; the horn-powered taxis; the loudspeakers of hawkers and politicians. It is a relief to get to a small town like Khajuraho and find somewhat clean air and generally less noise.
Khajuraho is really in the middle of nowhere and is noted only for its well-preserved temples exhibiting a lot of erotic sculpture. You can imagine what is happening with the rest of the figures shown on the reverse. We completed a day of touring yesterday by watching video tapes of “Dr. No” and “Goldfinger.” Our life has run the gamut of sex and fantasy.
We leave this morning for a five-hour drive to a big national park and two days of jungle R&R. We then make one more dip into the ultimate India at Benares before heading for Nepal. I hear, however, that the air in Nepal is not particularly clear because of all the individual cooking fires. It will be interesting to see how Egypt appears to us after India. One good sign – Fritz would like to come back and travel around the country by train.
We have met several very interesting and pleasant people while here. The NCS agent in Delhi was very informative and helpful; we have been to the homes of two guides for meals and found out a lot about arranged marriages. It is really similar to the process we went through with Kristen to pick a college.
Feel free to send this letter to Lax and points south as we have not slowed down enough to send too many letters.
Happy New Year,
Jack and Linda
January 18, 1987--Kathmandu (letter to Jack’s parents)
Dear Folks,
We have fled India for a week of R&R in Nepal. Clearly it would be nice to come back with Jungle, et al for a couple of weeks trekking around the mountains. The weather is quite pleasant and the people are very friendly. Prices are not too bad (though we really haven’t found too many “steals” anywhere) and the further you get out of the big cities, the more pleasant life can be – especially here where they are tooled up to provide guides, cooks and porters.
We had a very enjoyable three days at a jungle camp near the Indian border. We would ride elephants in search of rhinos, tigers, leopards and deer, and sleep in tents or tree houses. The food was excellent, and the guides were all quite knowledgeable. It was similar to the 1976 trip down the Grand Canyon except that the tents were bigger. We had a similarly nice time at another jungle camp in India. Clearly you need these breaks from the rigors of touring in India to keep everyone sane.
Both Linda and I have acquired head colds but hope to get over them quickly before they combine with the air pollution in the cities to give us severe sore throats. Even in Nepal there is no such thing as clear mountain air in the valleys since everyone uses wood for cooking fires.
While waiting for the plane at the jungle camp we walked around a small village near the grass airstrip to get a better feel for daily life. We found a couple of kids who could speak good English and they took us to their homes. Each family owned about two acres of land which they farmed on a subsistence basis – there was no cash crop, they ate all that they grew and if the hail ruined the crop, they faced the real threat of starvation. The father in the one family died of a heart attack some years ago and the eldest son disappeared about two years ago after some trouble with the police (he sounds like a good-for-nothing) leaving a wife and small baby. They all lived in a neat, two story (really 1-1/2) wattle and daub house and had four scrawny cows. They only pay about 25¢ a year in taxes, so that is not a problem, but their only source of cash would be the sale of a cow for about $15.00. They live in fear that a flood in the nearby river will wash their top soil away leaving them landless peasants. They have a shallow well with rather poor looking water and must rely on a neighbor for good water several times a year.
The other family was headed by a 60-year-old father (with a 43 year old wife) and they were somewhat better off with four water buffalo (worth about $250 apiece). Near their house was the rice mill where a diesel-powered mill crushes mustard seeds for cooking oil and mills the rice and wheat they grow. Again, there is no cash crop. The only outside employer within about a hundred-mile radius is the jungle camp but jobs go to the friends and acquaintances of those already working there. Most surprising is the fact that school is free only through the third grade. Here, as in Thailand, the best schools are run by the missionaries, but you always have to put up with the conversion hassle.
The kids are getting a good education and Fritz, especially, is hot to come back for a longer stay. We have all been getting along very well and no one is homesick. It is interesting to appreciate all the wildlife we have at Gem Lake after spending some time at jungle camps.
The telephones work in Nepal but seem never to do so in India. We will try to call from Egypt when we get there.
Love,
Jack, et al
P.S. Feel free to pass this around
January 18, 1987—Kathmandu (letter to Linda’s sister)
Dear Laura, et al (please pass this around so that these pearls of insight get broad distribution without the need for multiple letters):
I am sitting like a turtle in the sun on the veranda of a very pleasant Dutch hotel in Kathmandu, Nepal. Both Linda and I have developed head colds and the day will be best spent meeting epistolary responsibilities. Kristen, Fritz, and I spent an unproductive morning at the airport waiting for the fog to lift so that we could take a sightseeing flight to Everest. We had to leave at 7 for a scheduled 8 am flight which everyone knew would not leave before 10 and which was finally cancelled at 11:25 because the plane was needed elsewhere. Such are the travails of the tourist. If we feel a little better, I will rent bikes and go with the kids to the old market of one of the three medieval cities that make up Kathmandu.
We are enjoying our stay in Nepal and, it is safe to say, everyone would like to return for a three week stay full of treks. The people are quite friendly, the scenery is very nice (we can see mountains in Tibet from where we sit – the fog has disappeared), and life is more comfortable on a trek with guides, cooks and porters than in an urban hotel with people looking for tips. The fall or spring would be the time to come – no fog.
It is interesting that even though Nepal is a Hindu country, it has none of the “Eve teasing” and dowry troubles that exist in India. Eve teasing is the name given by the newspapers to the irritating habit of young Indian men to press themselves against or touch women in public places. At first, we thought it was only directed at Western women, but we have learned from discussions that Indian women have to put up with it as well. Their inferior status is reinforced by the dowry system (again not present in Nepal) which has led to the problem of “bride burning” – the harassment to the point of suicide of a bride by the groom or his family if her dowry is insufficient or less than expected. Some of these pleasant fellows marry a number of times before they acquire sufficient wealth from the process. The practice is supposed to be illegal but is very common. It is noted in the Personals columns by a reference to the fact that the party seeks a marriage having “traditional value” a quaint phrase. In the event of divorce, the woman has no real rights except to take with her the jewelry she came into the marriage with. It will be interesting to see how women are doing in Egypt. Apparently, things are even worse than India in Pakistan. Iran, of course, is beyond the pale for everyone.
The other major difference we have noted between Nepal and India is that things seem to work better (or at least more often) in Nepal. It is interesting that the Dutch all fly to Nepal by going first to Thailand and then coming back (at an increased cost of about $1,200) to avoid the hassles of flying through Bombay or Delhi. Unfortunately, we must return to both cities on our way to Cairo. The Indian system is marked by the all-pervasive bureaucracy with its multi copy forms (written out in long hand) and numerous stamps (always one less than is required by the next stop). It has greatly irritated Linda because she tries to stay reasonable and patiently work through the problem to a solution while I enjoy screaming at the functionaries for the cathartic benefits it gives and then looking for ways to thwart the system. We pretend not to know each other so that their irritation with me will not impede the slow progress being made by Linda. She later vents her frustrations on me claiming that this part of the trip was solely my idea.
Actually, India is a living embodiment of the movie “Brazil.” If you haven’t seen it you should. Approached as a sociological experience, the place is fascinating. Fritz likes it a lot because, unlike Thailand, the girls are not constantly trying to marry him. All in all, it will be a long time before (if ever) India can assume a real position of power and leadership in the world. They would like to think of themselves as leaders of the third world but that is really just saying being forever in the rank of underdeveloped countries.
Laura, Linda wants to know if you got her letter regarding some pearls she sent from Thailand we would also like to repeat our offer to have Stephen come to stay with us in Italy. She thinks she has another coupon on Northwest. You should have Linda’s secretary Scarlett (829-3125) telex us in Egypt if he can come and Linda will dig out the other coupon. You should make the reservations from MSP to Frankfurt and we’ll figure out how to get him to Italy. Hope all is going well otherwise.
Yours
Jack and the troops