Lawyers And Lassi

This is a typical lawyer's office outside the courts in Delhi - the largest court in all of Asia supposedly. There are rows and rows of them outside the courthouse.

The expensive lawyers have enclosed spaces....

While Rajiv was meeting with his lawyers, I went to Chandni Chowk in Old Delhi in search of a mango lassi. I had read about Amritsari Lassiwalla in the paper so Brahm Datt, the driver and I went off in search of it. Chandni Chowk has a few streets through it, but most of it is a maze of narrow passages which I'll have to come back with a guide to explore. It was worth suffering through the insane traffic of Chandni Chowk - the mango lassi was deliciously thick, creamy and not too sweet with a nice tangy spoonful of fresh yogurt on top!

Lassi Walla Outside Income Tax Office

It's mango season and I was craving a mango lassi so when Rajiv had to go to the Income Tax Office, I came along hoping to find a lassi walla while we were out. The street next to the big ITO is filled with vendors of everything from fruit juice to legal books and typists. While Rajiv and Brahm Datt went inside, the driver and I looked around for mango lassis.

No mango lassis were to be found so I settled for a regular lassi. It's quite a procedure to make one and it hits the spot on a hot hot day. Rajiv thinks I'm going to die one of these days as the concept of hygiene among Indian street food vendors isn't up to even NYC hot dog cart standards, but I carry emergency Imodium, I take my probiotics every day and I've been fine so far!

After the lassi we checked out the other snacks on offer and I tried a mung bean samosa. It's basically a fried dumpling made of cooked mung beans - not much to write home about, kind of bland but the green chutney and radish on the side perked it up a bit.

Wisdom In Calcutta Airport

Hopefully you'll never have a 4+ hour layover in Calcutta airport, but if you do pick up a book by Tagore at the small bookshop, find the "Top Deck" restaurant upstairs and have a samosa and a drink while you're waiting it out.

Off The Boat And Into The Village

So after about an hour and a half chugging upriver on the boat we took a smaller, side branch of the river and pulled up at a small village. As soon as I climbed off the boat I was surrounded by children (who love seeing their pictures in the digital camera) and suspiciously eyed by the women who were working spreading rice to dry on the packed earth under the sun. We walked through the village, obviously heading somewhere but I couldn't figure out what the guide was saying.

We walked through the narrow path, past the cutest little mini-chickens to another courtyard where men were at work hitting rice stalks across a board and barrel to knock the rice off, the kids trailing along behind me the whole time. I thought, that's nice to see some more of the harvest work, then we went into a building and I was very ceremoniously led to the end of a short hall and a bathroom - I got it, this was the bathroom break part of the trip! I've had to use turkish toilets before in France but I didn't have to go (really). I went in anyway and washed my hands, waited around a couple minutes, came back out and thanked the waiting crowd.

We stopped by where the women were working on the way back out and the guide started talking to an ancient looking lady sitting on the ground. He said she was the oldest lady in the village. I asked if I could take her picture, so he got a photo of us with some kids. I got a picture with all the ladies and they giggled looking at the image on the digital screen. They were starting to look at me less suspiciously now and followed us down to the riverbank waving when we left. The kids ran along the bank following the boat as far back down the river as they could waving and yelling like crazy. It was the best part of the whole trip.

Cruising the Meghna River on a Fishing Boat

Through the hotel's recommended travel agency (Bangladesh Expeditions "An Expedition With Us. An Experience Forever..." which has offices in Dhaka and Paris of all places) I booked a day-long tour that included a cruise on the Meghna River aboard a wooden fishing boat and a visit to the original Sonargaon, the ancient capital of Bangladesh. Lunch included!

It was hot hot hot, even on the river and I could understand why everyone along the banks was in the water if they weren't working in the fields harvesting rice. Everyone on the river was happy to see a foreigner, they waved like crazy and the kids would splash around showing off in the river.

Driving in a Bangladeshi Village

Just a taste of what traffic's like there. The roads are about 8 feet wide.

What's with the grapes? I saw them hanging in other cars also!

Here is the link to the entire photo album from Bangladesh http://picasaweb.google.com/rougeinternational/MyTripToBangladesh2009?authkey=Gv1sRgCIGnkv3S1afVKw&feat=directlink

The Other Side of the Fence

From the window of my luxurious suite at the Sonargaon I had a lovely view of the pool, hot tub and bar as well as the giant water-filled pit in the ground just behind the hotel.

From the window, I could watch people toiling away hauling dirt out to lay those massive drainage pipes, children playing in the dirt and people bathing in the water.

A visit to Bangladesh is a good way to become more thankful for what you've got.

Boutique Prints, Paul Masson & Power Lines in Bangladesh

Now I know where all the Paul Masson wine in carafes has gone.

I never thought I would go to Bangladesh once let alone twice, but I had the opportunity to tag along on one of Rajiv's business trips so why not??

We flew out of Delhi last Thursday on a non-stop flight to Dhaka. Some guy who wants Rajiv to do some work with him had arranged to pick us up at the airport (we were to look for the guy "wearing a half white shirts with Boutique Print and brown color pant") We wondered what in the world a "boutique print" would look like but, thankfully, every other person at the arrival area was wearing a solid color shirt. I snuck a picture of the shirt in the car in case anyone else was wondering what one looks like.

Traffic was worse than when I last came in 2006, but the rickshaws were just as colorful and the electrical system just as dangerous looking.

We stayed in the posh Pan Pacific Sonargaon hotel in a suite that was bigger than some NYC apartments I've lived in. Paul Masson Chablis and Burgundy were the only wines on offer in the lounge though.

Getting The New Car Blessed

I went with Brahm Datt and Rajesh to pick up the new Toyota Innova. Brahm Datt insisted on doing a puja immediately to bless the car so we stopped first to pick up a box of laddoo (sweets) then stopped at the temple a block from the house.

The street was packed with a line of people that went out the door and down the street, there were vendors selling garlands of marigolds, loose flowers, coconuts, shiny satin cloths with gold trim and trinkets outside the entry and across the street a crowd of beggars - mothers with children, elderly people and handicapped people - waiting for alms. It was a crazy scene - a mixture of sparkly, shiny, colorful things on one side and dirty, drab, poor people on the other.

We slowly drove past the temple and I realized that there were three right next to each other. The first was a Hindu temple (to Shiva I think) next to a Sai Baba temple followed strangely enough by a Jehovah's Witness temple (or chapel?). Brahm Datt hopped out of the car to find a pandit to bless the car and we drove around in the prosaic task of finding parking but apparently the parking god wasn't anywhere near that neighborhood.

We circled back around and pulled up in front of the Shiva temple (thankfully the huge line was at the temple next door). I got out of the car into the chaotic heat and crowd. The air was a mixture of incense and sewage.

Brahm Datt had already picked up the provisions (2 strings of marigolds and a coconut) and the plump pandit came out with a little pot of orange paste. He proceeded to do some chanting while drawing a swastika, an OM sign and some dots and squiggles on the hood of the car with the orange paste. He circled the coconut around my head then cracked it on the ground and dripped some coconut water on the car as he circled around it then he gave Rajesh and Brahm Datt orange dots on their foreheads. He put a string of marigolds under a windshield wiper and we went inside the temple.

There I was instructed to put the other string of marigolds around the stone lingam and put a laddoo on it as well. He sprinkled some more of the coconut water on it and gave me an orange dot on my forehead. I handed over 101 rupees and it was done.

Outside the temple I gave some alms to some people then we left. We got to the gate of the house and Indra was waiting with a jug of water. We stopped before going through the gate and she walked around the car pouring some water on the wheels then Rajesh drove it in, we gave the guards from next door some sweets and now the car being duly blessed is ready to hit the road!

Village Scenes from Kheri Kalan

I woke up at the crack of dawn to the sound of birds chirping, peacocks squawking and somebody chanting. We took a ride out into the country to look at some birds and visit Bram Datt's farm. I ended up learning to milk a water buffalo, driving an oxcart, visiting some friends in a neighboring village, ringing the bell in a Shiva temple and ingesting a pound of dust.

Making chapatis village style!

my charpoy bed

Kheri Kalan - a weekend in the country

Where my gastrointestinal system is put to the test & passes with flying colors and they try unsuccessfully to teach me to dance Indian style.

The road to Kheri Kalan passes by the ancient Tughlakabad fortress, the third city of Delhi, and through the suburban city of Faridabad where posters advertising the "Genetic Citizens Club" left me intrigued since the rest was written in Hindi. You know you're moving from city to village as motor rickshaws give way to bike rickshaws. I have a theory that the number of persons crammed into a three-wheeler is proportional to the distance from the city. In Delhi you see one or two people inside - the further out into the country you get, the heavier the load up to and including the entire population of a small village stuffed into and clinging on to a creaky three-wheeler.

After stopping to visit the temple and try sugarcane juice (btw, saw an article in the Delhi paper yesterday about sugarcane juice sellers and outbreaks of gastroenteritis and cholera...) we stopped a few more times to pick up watermelon, regular melon, mithai (sweets) and a lassi (but the lassi walla wasn't there). I was starting to get the feeling that I was in for a lot of food this weekend.

It didn't take long to see the proof either. As soon as I met Brahm Datt's family the procession of neighbors, family, friends, food and drink began. They were coming to see the American who'd come to the village. They brought out a huge tray of appetizers and sweets and set it down in front of me. It all looked good so I had one but nobody else would have any - it was all for me! Then they brought sweets. I realized that I had better start pacing myself.

After a while we made our way to the tent that was set up for the ceremony and feast (I think this was the "tilak" part of the days-long process). I was the only female in the tent watching the ceremony which was going along fine, the groom was getting loaded down with gifts (ranging from towels to a gold watch), until a guy in the front row had an epileptic seizure. The men jumped right in, helping him, holding him down and some rubbing his legs and feet but they ushered me right out of there like he was possessed by the devil.

From there I went down the street into the room where all the women were. They were seated on the floor, passing around a tray with the bride's gifts on it (mostly jewelry). Then the chanting and dancing began. They dragged me up and got me to dance, people were stopping by the open doorway taking pictures with their cell phones.

After a brief break where the ladies changed into even-more-sparkly clothes (and I didn't fit into the outfit they had for me) we went back for the vegetarian feast. I tried everything - except one dish that had so many chiles floating on top that I thought I'd better stay away - paneer, channa, poori, salad Indian-style, raita, subzi, pani puri, jalebi - I ate it all.

The dancing went on long after we left for bed (charpoys in this case) - I slept with the Brahm Datt's wife and daughters on the roof terrace under the stars listening to the music until dawn.

Sugar Cane Juice

Or where I come to the realization that I'm going to have to give up any concerns I may have about what I am putting into my digestive system this weekend.

So we finally hit the road for my weekend in the country - Rajesh, the driver, and Brahm Datt whose family I would be staying with and me. Although it looked like it might rain in the morning, it was another hot, sunny day by the time we left Delhi at around 3 in the afternoon.

We were finally free, headed into the bucolic Indian countryside. On the road outside Delhi we stopped at a large white temple. We went inside to check it out but unfortunately the actual temple part was closed so we just walked around the courtyard. Wheat was spread on the white marble to dry in the sun and the whole courtyard smelled like warm grain.

Outside the temple there was a guy selling fresh squeezed sugar cane juice. He runs the sugar cane through a crusher several times and collects the juice. On the last run-through some limes are added and crushed with the cane. Rajesh and Brahm Datt asked me if I wanted to try some.

I took one look at the flies swarming over the ancient metal rollers, the grubby glasses upside down in an even grubbier old wooden rack and, putting my faith in the preventive dose of Immodium that I had taken before leaving, said "sure why not?".

A small crowd gathered to watch me, I got my camera out and took a picture of the setup, Brahm Datt (always thinking of my well-being) admonished the guy to give me a clean glass and he promptly rinsed a glass in a bucket of not-so-clean-looking water before filling it with the sugar cane juice that had collected below the crusher/press.

I tasted the frothy, slightly sweet, slightly milky liquid and liked it which made them all very happy. The lime added a nice touch of acidity which balanced the sweetness and the juice had a faint grassy, herbaceous taste. Some mint would have been nice also and chilled with a dash of rum it would make a pretty good cocktail!

Shaadi - Nobody Said Anything About a Wedding!

So, I was invited to spend the weekend in the country, in a village outside Delhi, with Brahm Datt's family. A great way to experience real India on a rural farm! I come to find out an hour before we leave that I'm going to a wedding in the village tonight and apparently I'm the guest of honor. They've got a sari ready for me to wear and everything - good thing saris are one-size-fits-all. Did I mention that nobody speaks English there? This should be interesting...