Dan’s Delhi Diary!

There is truly such a lot of time and effort that goes into these blogs and Sharon has done such an amazing job, she’s having a break. I said I’d write the blog for Delhi although I’ve now realised I've possibly chosen the hardest place to try and sum up with words! I think, after spending just over a week here at the moment, the only recommendation I have is that everyone must come here at least once in their lives. It is another world and has been an education with every single step we have taken.. I'm going to try and sum up our experience in Delhi for you..

So we left Cambodia bound for India with, I think it's fair to say, a huge amount of anxiety on what to expect. From the moment we started planning this trip we always had India and the Taj Mahal as a bucket list stop, but it has always felt like the most daunting part. When I think back to Sharon and I planning I am not sure we really discussed it in detail but we both knew this country had the potential to open all of our minds to a totally different world. All I can say is now, what an understatement that was! It has pushed us so far out of our comfort zones, I'm glad we had all the previous countries we've experienced to build us up to this and I'm also glad it's been at the end of our trip as I think we might have turned straight back around for home had we arrived here first!

After a twelve hour travel day, we touched down in New Delhi at around 9pm and made our way through customs to meet our pre-booked driver from the hotel. From the moment we stepped out of the airport you could feel the cultural change. Following our driver to the car dogs roamed freely, the dry heat stifles you, and the car beeping symphony starts. Our driver asks us to wait in the busy car park whilst he fetches the car and the eyes on us begins. Much more on that later! The driver returns with a second driver and two small cars to which our luggage was squashed in and questionably secured on the roof with some old bit of rope as we divided into our usual two groups - Sharon, Pheebs and Floss in one car and myself Pops and Fin in the other.

The hour transfer was a jaw dropping journey in itself. It was crazy, drivers beeping for no other reason than to express their anger or impatience with each other, the dusty streets littered with rubbish, people, carts, homeless families lining the pavements on either side - again, more on that later, sellers everywhere, tuktuks, motorbikes, cars all travelling without any obvious lanes, and to top it all, random cows lumbered through the streets and goats were tethered to lamp posts and gathered at junctions as if it were the stables for the night! As we got closer to the hotel the streets got busier and more enclosed and so ensued more impatient horn honking and hand gesticulations from our driver. It's times like this that Sharon and I like to be together to support each other's racing thoughts about our current life choices. As we turned off the main road, bumping down a dark and dusty single track road - still with tuktuks, cars, motorbikes and people all trying to get up and down both ways, all while the driver continues his beeping, arguing and gesticulating, we somehow force our way through and pull up to the dimly lit Blue Pearl Hotel central Delhi. Arriving ten minutes before Sharon, needless to say I paced around with the younger two worrying about the girls and when they would turn up. Finally, after some serious rising heart rate later, we were all together, checked into hotel rooms that looked suspiciously unlike anything we had booked online!

After an uneasy night's sleep with the anticipation of the day ahead we woke up early and, with a few different ideas in mind, we started to plan. Over the past seven months we have become masters of last minute planning and cost checking. Before we left on our travels we spent hours planning and researching and now we have realised that, as long as you have your first couple of nights accommodation sorted, once you arrive at a destination you get so many more options or ideas thrown at you. The drivers always love to give trip advice, people you meet along the way too, and sometimes the Airbnb hosts, but nothing was going to prepare us for the introduction of Mr Singh, the Blue Pearl Hotel manager.

So, picture us in bed, laptops in front of us, kids quietly doing their learning apps, when the room phone rings at 8:30am sharp and we all look at each other as if we have never heard a phone ringing before. It was the hotel reception asking if we were coming to breakfast and abruptly hanging up (I now know this is a cultural thing rather than rudeness). We thought we had until 10.30am.. Reprimanded, we promptly made our way to breakfast and as we guiltily passed reception, we were informed that Mr Singh would be speaking with us after we finished. Breakfast was the most random we've had anywhere around the world, but who doesn't love a curry and chapati to start the day? We finished eating whatever we could stomach and made our way to the reception - the feeling was not unlike the feeling I used to have when I was told to see the Headmaster again! Inviting us to his desk, Mr Singh is a very efficient hotelier, able to assist with anything, which left us very little wriggle room when trying to say we like to create our own itinerary. Communicating that our itineraries tend to change with the wind as and when the kids decide to kick off or switch off was particulary difficult with our language barrier and perhaps cultural expectations of children too. Not to mention the level of ADHD and autism awareness in India! So, we found ourselves agreeing with Mr Singh when he insisted on a driver and organising our plans for the full Golden Triangle Tour, to include Agra and the Taj Mahal, followed by Ranthambore National Park and finally on to Jaipur where we would be dropped at the airport ready for Goa. As I sit here now with my cup of tea outside our room in Ranthambore, overlooking the tended gardens with the sound of birdsong and the odd monkey passing, I am actually happy we let him get on with it as it has taken a lot of the planning away from us, although this feeling does go up and down!!

So, back to Delhi! In our search for understanding this crazy city, we had been keen to do an Indian slum tour, especially after the amazing insight we had in Rio de Janeiro's Rochina favela. We came across the Salaam Baalak Trust. This charity was established in 1988 providing support services for the many thousands of street children living in Delhi. They conduct tours of the city, including a small education into what life is like for kids on the streets here, all guided by former children under their care. Our driver Ravindra, dropped us to the meeting point where we were greeted by *John (name changed), our tour guide for the day and a previous 'street kid'. He was confident and self-assured and instantly personable, we all relaxed in his company. He was joined by *Katie (also name changed), also a former child of the street, also quietly confident and instantly likeable. They led us safely through the crazy city, talking to us all the time about their own stories and the work of the trust, as we made our way to their office headquarters, a base right next to Delhi train station. We are told that over two hundred children are "lost" in Delhi every week, either running from abusive parents, family members, or in extreme poverty with no other option than to seek a way to provide for their families. John shared with us that he arrived at Delhi train station after leaving his village at the age of eight, taking three trains and over a thousand miles to arrive in the bright lights of Delhi, all to help provide for his family living in poverty. It's hard to think that at a similar age to what Fin is now, this was his reality, living alone, surviving on a train platform, completely vulnerable and surrounded by all measures of dangers. He ended up living on the streets for eight years, enduring some horrific experiences including being stabbed by another child also fighting for survival, and becoming addicted to smack before the age of ten. With the support of Salaam Baalak he was supported by a social worker and slowly encouraged to come to them for help. Eventually he trusted them enough and they saved him. This is what they have done for thousands of other children. Their aim is to welcome the girls and boys living and working on the streets and to give them an opportunity to live a life of dignity. They provide care and love, along with health, nutrition, education and vocational training facilities to fulfil their dreams. We learn Katie's story too, escaping an abusive father, being separated from her siblings, and hear her hopes and dreams for the future. With the help of Salaam Baalak they are both doing these tours to improve their English, Katie with aspirations to become an air hostess and John wanting to become successful on his own as a city tour guide. We hear that Salaam Baalak translates to 'salute a child' and this is exactly what they do - salute the indomitable spirit of street children without any discrimination based on gender, religion, caste, colour or nationality, and give them belief in themselves.

As we arrive at the Headquarters - I hate to say it, but it's a shabby office above the police station at Delhi train station, and the whole place is crumbling and stinks of urine, but it's all they've got - we are led to the back office to sit in the same seats that William and Kate had sat in a few years before, and see there is a young girl in there too. We talk with her, with John translating, and hear that she arrived that morning. At eleven years old, she was seemingly unphased that she had run away from her parents and was all alone in this big, dangerous city. She had dreams of becoming a Bollywood star, and we are told there are many other girls arriving with the same far fetched dream, only to be mixed up with completely the wrong people on their arrival. Although she didn't seem happy about it, thank goodness the Trust were there on the ground at the train station ready to scoop her up to safety and contact her parents. Being told a story or reading a blog about this is one thing, but we all spent the morning meeting children as young as three, hearing their stories and playing with them. It was heartbreaking. We’ve got an incredible photograph with them all, that I wish we could share, but it will just be one for our own walls at home to remind us of our time with them and the lessons we’ve learnt. I could write a whole blog on the important work the Salaam Baalak Trust are doing, but instead I just encourage you to give them a google and have a read yourselves. It really is another world out here and we have to feel so grateful for the country we were born in.

As John told us he was hoping to become a city tour guide, we asked if he could take us all out again later that night for a tour of Old Delhi and the spice market. We were keen to try some of the local cuisine but worried about the infamous 'Delhi belly', John assured us he could do us an Old Delhi spice market and food tour lasting three hours. Perfect, all was agreed for a 4.30pm meet up. After the intensity of the tour and the madness of the streets, we all head back to our hotel for a couple of hours and I have never been so happy to have a hotel room with no windows! We almost forgot we were in Delhi and the constant chaos of those streets.

As the time got nearer, the kids kicked off about going and not one part of them wanted to go back out to those overwhelming streets! We managed to persuade them to walk five minutes down the road to their ideal food tour option of a McDonalds, (you really can rely on McDonalds anywhere in the world!) and they were happy to stay locked in their hotel bedroom with a film. We didn't want to push them - the reality of the morning had been hard for us all and definitely a lot for them to process.

So, just Sharon and I on our first date night in seven months! Ravindra drops us to the meeting point John has sent us, but as the road was closed, we had a five minute walk first. And so begins every single pair of eyes on us as we walk. It was hard in the day, but we at least had John and Katie taking control and leading us. Now it was me in charge and I have to say, as we were walking down the busy road alongside the Red Fort, it quickly went from beautiful to panicked (please bear with me on the expressive language, my builders vocabulary is no match for the words needed to describe Delhi). The roads were just filled with people, all of them staring at us, and after five minutes of walking, trying to be relaxed, and not seeming to get any closer to the spice market, we type the metro station into google maps where John has said to meet him, and realise it is actually fifteen minutes in the opposite direction! We turn back and eventually approach a junction we need to cross. We first spot one little boy, filthy, with no underwear on, peeing freely on the pavement. We then notice another little boy, also half dressed, similar age, both toddlers. We wave and smile while we are waiting, and then their sister, or just another girl, approaches us gesturing with her hand to mouth asking for money for food. Two more children appear, all while we are looking and wondering if the traffic lights are ever going to turn green - do they even work in India? We now have a little collective of dusty kids surrounding us, all who have been playing on this little triangle in the middle of this mentally busy road. We learned this morning that giving money to children is not the best way to help them. As cruel as it seems, unless you have food to give them, you are advised to say no to giving them anything. They are usually sent out by parents as they will accumulate more money than the parents, and usually the parents spend the money on drugs. Trying to hold on to that resolve, we are looking for a safe point to cross this mental road, all while trying to smile and be kind, but we now have two more boys and one girl, grabbing one of my arms each and one of my legs. Like something out of a cruel comedy sketch we are now trying to cross this road, in front of a slowing bus, with tuktuks and motorbikes still going past, with a girl holding Sharon's hand and a boy hanging mid air from my arm and the third hanging on to my tshirt. Worrying if we would get ourselves across the road alive was one thing, but we now had these three kids to get across safely too! This was tough, tougher than I'm able to convey here, and tougher than we could have imagined. Now we're walking down an extremely busy Delhi street, trying to blend in with our fair skin and western attire, now with three children clinging to us.

I quickly decide for our safety and theirs to move to the side of the road, kneel down to their level and try and gain some control. Money, money, money, is all they are interested in. I reach into my bag and get a hundred rupiahs out. Talking to the three of them, I explain as much as I can using my hands and actions, that they are to share it between the three of them. Handing it to the girl, again with these instructions, she whips it out of my hand and runs like the wind across the busy road. Sharon and I with our hearts in our mouths wondering how she got across without getting hit. One of the boys then bursts into tears, real emotional tears of complete devastation. Again, I reach into my bag, this time only having a two hundred rupiah note, again expressing the importance of sharing with the other boy as I hand it over. Lo and behold, he legs it off too. These kids are good! Now, we're left with the smallest of the three. He had not said a word, just stared into my soul with a look of desperation I can still see now. I reached into my bag for the only other note I had, a five hundred rupiah and gave it to him. For what it was worth, I told him to put it in his pocket and not tell anyone. Well, as I expected, we watch the little boy run into the busy road to find his friends and immediately show them his haul. For Sharon and I this moment was really sad, obviously we laugh at their skill, but these children, and thousands more like them, are living like this every day and it's absolutely heartbreaking.

We continued on much like this - sticking out like a sore thumb and having countless children hanging off us, more begging, and all eyes on us as we passed. Sharon even got asked for her wedding ring instead of money with a young child circling her fingers around her ring finger. In all honesty, we arrived at the metro station completely overwhelmed and Sharon was close to tears. This is not an easy city to navigate and we have never been happier not to have the kids with us. Sending a photo to John to say we'd arrived, we received a reply to tell us we were at the wrong station!! This nearly sent us over the edge, and if it had been simple to make our way back through the throng of people, market stalls, animals, and vehicles we'd just navigated, I think we would have turned straight back to our hotel. Thankfully, that wasn't very easy, and soon John arrived next to us, taking all control again and strolled through the busy streets as relaxed as if he was walking along a deserted beach!

The city tour was incredible. We visited hidden gems, tasted amazing Indian food in the most unlikely of places, and finished off at the spice market in old Delhi. Wow what a place. Within the narrow alleys of Khari Baoli, this multi-storey street market was incredible. We were hit by an intense aroma that caught our throat and caused us to cough, then cough again, then nearly choke we were coughing so much. It becomes apparent that everyone is coughing, it's really funny; the workers, the tourists, I am pretty sure I even heard the cows coughing too. Originating back to the 1700’s this market has been the mecca for spices in Delhi and is the largest in Asia, huge sacks of spices line the dusty lanes, buyers from local people to traders come to indulge in the finest of spices, dried fruits and nuts.

It was so nice for us to spend some time together taking in this city as adults at night. Getting even an hour alone is difficult, but to have it together whilst exploring and taking in everything that is so new and crazy is really special. Sharon became the centre of attention, with loads of people stopping her and asking to take her photo, like she was a celebrity. John tells us that it's just where much of India is not so multicultural, they like the photos to show to people at home or put on social media to show that they have met someone from abroad. It's very random! Upon returning very tired to the hotel I am pleased to say the kids hadn’t been kicked out or burnt it down and were all more than happy chilling together.

The next day we had been told by Mr Singh we would leave at 9am for another busy day of sightseeing with our driver Ravindra. Exhausted but unable to argue, we fill up on more curry, and the random breakfast assortment of omelettes, biscuits, fruit, and cake and make our way to our first stop. The Qutub Minar is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and one of Delhi’s most iconic monuments. This 72 metre high minaret and victory tower was built to mark the beginning of Islamic rule in the region. Now its true the kids aren’t crazy for days like this, especially when its thirty-five plus degrees again, but it is set in beautiful grounds and there was something very special about visiting this calm open space for a few hours away from the bustle of the city. The girls now took over the request for selfies - once one person asks, so begins them doing a photoshoot with several others. It's funny, they are enjoying it, it's all done in a friendly and harmless way, with people and families of all ages, wives and children, followed by their dad, then grandparents, it’s mad, but I think it’s OK while everyone seems OK with it.

Finishing at the site, we find Ravindra and say we'd like to just head to the mall - the kids just need a bit of normalcy and we know we'll find that with air con and a H&M! Ravindra is very worried to go against Mr Singh's planned itinerary but we eventually manage to persuade him we are happy. He tells us that if we are happy, then he is happy, and as he has children the same age, he will treat us as family for the whole time we are with him. And so begins the start of his new nickname, said in jest but met with such a smile it had to stay - Ravindra now becomes "Uncle" for the whole week we are with him.

As always, what a contrast, a thirty minute drive across town we reached a very large newly built mall that seemed so indulgent and out of place in a place with so much poverty. I couldn’t help but feel bad for Ravindra and guilty that we all felt some relief a seeing this comfortable and familiar structure. Nevertheless we made our way excitedly inside on the search for some smarter attire in preparation for our visit to the Taj Mahal tomorrow. I'm not sure boardies and a bintang vest will cut it for one of the Seven Wonders of the World! Excited!