Cleared out by The Games

With the Commonwealth Games only 98 days away there have been reports that the government is up to no good again. In the year leading up to the Games they have been arresting beggars and clearing slums.

A reported 52% of people living in Delhi reside in slums. ‘Reside’ is a bad word, ‘survive’ would be better. You can see people washing from a bucket outside, cooking on basic gas stoves and eeking out an existence threading flowers into garlands for temple goers. At more than half of the cities’ population of 15 million, that’s a shocking amount of people living in conditions like this. Often slums are right by the roadside and clearly visible to any passers-by. There has been a few that were allowed to stay in place and screening such as fences or trees were used. For the others, as an eye-sore and an embarrassment for India, the Delhi Development Authority and other departments have been at work.

It is well-reported that beggars have been arrested and put in jail without trial until after October when they may be released. Beggars’ jails are in existence here which are called homes for beggars but in reality they are mini prisons housed next to the bigger prisons. With so many beggars to be tried there have been some initiatives such as a beggars’ court where beggars are tried in a mobile van before being and carted off to the ‘home’.

Recently, Mike Rosenkrantz, another VSO volunteer, received a text from someone in the slums near the Indian Social Institute (ISI) where VSO holds its orientation training. He found out that slum clearances were going on here. If you want to see the area before it got bull-dozed it features on one of my You Tube videos from November 2009.

We walked past these people every day. They looked at us as we walked by and we smiled and laughed with the children all the while getting a glimpse of the side of India that isn’t shining. Now their semi-permanent brick-made shelters are gone and families are homeless once more. Finding out why the government has cleared this particular area, which is not visible from the main road, is unbelievable. These people were displaced as apparently Delhi needed more parking for the Games.    

Manali and Mountains

After a 16 hour bus journey another volunteer and I arrived in Manali in the region of Himachel Pradesh. How great it was to get away to the cool of the mountains for the weekend. Warm enough for T-shirts in the day and cool enough for jeans and fleeces in the evenings. It was a revelation compared to the current 40 plus heat. Yesterday here it hit 50 plus on someone’s thermometer. The AC at home struggled to cool down my flat. I wasn’t sure if it was even on at one point. In Manali it rained a bit every day and it was a welcome experience.

Welcomed by the usual touts and auto drivers fresh off the bus we made it past the hordes until we got a reasonable price and headed into Old Manali. Past new Manali we went up the hill into the world of the backpacker, aging hippy and dried out volunteers. Signs outside cafes screamed banana pancakes, nutella croissants and coffee. All of which must be consumed sitting outside with an air of smugness and a world weary look on ones face. My own smugness tends to come in at the point where I hear someone bragging about their travels and I think, well I live and work here so probably best not to come over here with your stories.

We escaped the tourist merry-go-round of cheap massages and pedicures and fortune-telling by heading to the mountains the next day for a three day trek. We chose an easy option which is lucky when being in the Delhi heat means exercise is irregular and usually short-lived. We were rewarded by green foothills and colourful villages. Sleeping in a tent, fed on dahl and roti, listening to the sound of the River Beas was pretty amazing. Another three hour trek the next day rewarded us with a camp site 3000m up on the side of Patalsu mountain surrounded by the other snow-capped peaks. Lolling around in the sunshine all afternoon, reading, chatting to passing trekkers and playing with Terry the dog who had abandoned the trekker he was with in favour of our tent. He proceeded to sleep in our tent porch all night and accompanied us on the trek until he got distracted by some cows and another group of trekkers. Our cooks and porters did us proud feeding us with unlimited chai and three course meals. The only problem was finding a suitable place to go to the toilet as the trees were a bit far away. I was slightly embarrassed to be caught peeing on the side of the mountain by an American trekker and his four year old son but the chance I’ll ever see them again is remote!

Our final day involved another three hour trek followed by another four hours to get back down the mountain. The day after, we headed to Manali main town on sore legs for some retail therapy. Blankets, a variety of wool products and Yak’s wool shawls have been obtained and are waiting for the next Delhi winter or my return to the UK depending on where I’ll be in December. The main part of Manali was full of Indian tourists so we were able to get some Indian food at a Dhaba. We managed to avoid the hawkers selling fake Ray-bans and men purveying the pinkest radioactive looking candy floss I’ve ever seen.   

We had to put up with a broken down bus on the way back and a replacement bus with no AC but got a 400 rupee refund when we got into Delhi sweating 17 hours later. The whole thing was brilliant and the chance for a break away couldn’t have come quick enough. Work as well as the weather has really hotted up with government proposals and training to be worked on. The opportunity to get away and enjoy some UK-like weather came at a good time and has meant a renewed sense of enthusiasm on my return. Now I need to plan my next trip away!   

Wot choo looking at?

So I’m more used to the auto drivers now. I even have a bit of a laugh with them when negotiating in Hindi. I still occasionally jump when car horns toot but mostly not. There are things to do for fun and places to relax. I’m settled and happy.

So why does the staring get to me sometimes? It’s like there is no one around who isn’t Indian other than me. And it’s not just men, its women too. Even when I’m going to work and my clothes are more Indian, it doesn’t make a difference.

Granted sometimes you can tell that the person staring may not be a Dilliwallah and could be from a rural village. You see everyone comes to Delhi to work. That’s why some sleep on the side of the street. Construction workers often build tent-like homes from bricks on a spare bit of pavement. You see whole families cooking, washing and living their lives side-by-side with the traffic.

So what gives me the right to get wound up? On the rare day that it does now I have a little chat to myself and think...ladyee, you are rich in comparison. Just deal with it.

Pic from http://blogs.sacbee.com/photos/2010/04/indias-national-census.html