everywhere in between

Arriving in India on Thanksgiving Day was a shock to the senses.  After ultra-new, monied Dubai, Delhi provided an entirely different experience.  After 24 hours of feeling like I was back in middle school (the highs were higher, the lows were lower), I came to the following sketch of Delhi.

The Good

Like many places, Delhi has clogged roads.  Though surprisingly, they were not as bad as I expected due to the construction of a metro that has taken 1.650 buses off the roads since it opened in 2002 and increased average road speed by 4 km/hour (roughly 2.4 mph).   This metro, which has inspired similar projects in cities across India, has helped reduce pollution by 30% (though I shudder to think of what it was like before the metro).  Also helping to keep the air relatively clean is the use of CNG (Clean Natural Gas) in the many rickshaws trawling the streets.  Small, maneuverable, and mildly terrifying, the rickshaws are a favorite mode of transportation for groups of 2-4 people.  Many of the rickshaws have CNG written on the back, signifying that they are now running on this clean natural gas, helping to ease the clogging of the air.

Another aspect of Delhi, and India in general, that I would categorize as good (better yet, great, or mesmerizing) is the quality of light.  For some reason, perhaps because of the pollution, objects seems to be lit not by the sun, but perhaps by the air around them.  This results in a tremendously warm light at many points throughout the day and oddly illuminated objects.  Coupled with the colors of the area– brightly painted objects and colored fabrics– the effect is entrancing.

The Bad

The tourism industry in India relies heavily on touts.  At first this is entertaining, even interesting, as people on the streets approach tourists to talk them into visiting a particular shop, or even tourism office.  However, when a thirty minute walk turns into two hours because of seemingly helpful young men who offer help you to untangle the maze of Delhi streets (that does NOT correspond to a map) by then directing you to a store or tour office, it becomes downright frustrating, and negates sightseeing as a reason for being in Delhi altogether.  During one particular excursion, Ed and I were approached by at least six men, all of whom “weren’t selling anything” but were adamant that we visit a particular tourism agency.  It got to the point where we could not escape– we were being followed by almost every do-gooder to ensure that we did not get lost on the way to the tourism office.  According to those in Delhi, there is nothing to see except the tourism office… 

Add to this scenario unrelenting traffic.  Traffic that makes no sense– that uses the lines on the road as suggestions to be discarded the moment a constantly shape-shifting free space into which to maneuver makes itself available.  This goes for turning too.  There is no planning ahead, no switching into the right lane if one wants to make a right-hand turn.  Instead, the strategy seems to be to get as close to the intersection as possible and then aggressively weave your way through the dozens of other cars, rickshaws, bicycles, camels, etc utilizing the same exact strategy.  And one must honk ones horn the entire time.  Depending on my mood this alternates between entertaining and ridiculous.

The Ugly

India is poor.  It is a type of poverty that I have not seen before– not in Romania where I stayed with a family with no running hot water and that cooked over a fire in the backyard, nor in Georgia, where the center of the city surrounding the new cathedral has unpaved roads and similar living conditions to that in Romania.  In India, the poverty is a combination of desperation, acceptance, and disrespect that makes me resent myself and the people I see.

My first impression was in Pahar Ganj–not exactly the nicest section of Delhi.  It houses a lot of budget hotels and as such had an odd mix of abject poverty and tourism.  Unlike other parts of Delhi, the poverty is more open and less controlled.  The morning I arrived, tiny fires of garbage burned haphazardly in the streets– not moved to one side, no system of trying to contain the rubbish burning to a specific place, to tidy it perhaps.  To me this seemed to be tantamount to embracing the poverty, rather than rising above it.  Perhaps this is true, or perhaps it is just part of the chaotic nature of Indian life where order isn’t necessarily aspired to…

What really bothered me, however, was the disrespect with which most citizens (mainly male) treat their city.  Spitting is constant (perhaps due to the pollution), as is littering, as is peeing wherever, whenever, by anyone male. Despite the existence of “public conveniences” (restrooms) it seems that many men prefer to relieve themselves in the streets, in broad daylight, even in nicer sections of town dressed in nice pants and a button-down shirt. 

Poverty may be out of a lot of people’s control, but how one responds to that poverty and chooses to live within it is controllable.  In my opinion, adding to the rank conditions and constant reek of sewer in one’s home is within one’s control..  And choosing to do so is ugly in the worst sense of the word.

India is a captivating country, and seems to reward those who are able to look past the surface grime and close their ears to touts. The chaos is frustrating and enlivening and with constant splashes of color, amazing food, and foreign animals, architecture and fruit, it is easy to feel small again, trying to decipher the world around you.

A common sight in Dubai are people waiting by bus stops, crammed into any available shadow cast by signs, benches, or the rare tree to escape the tremendous heat.  The people waiting for the bus tend to be the many immigrants from India, Pakistan, and the Philippines who have come to help fuel Dubai’s rocket-like economy.

Working in construction and the booming service industry, these immigrants are a key component of Dubai’s economic growth.  With 1/6th of the world’s cranes in Dubai, construction workers are vital (though supply and demand wages don’t seem to be playing into their working conditions.  Read more at the link on human rights to the right).  The hotel industry is outpacing the supply of hotel staff and the 3:1 ratio of workers to hotel guests is declining (by comparison, in London the ratio is more like 1.5:1). 

Together with the workers from worldwide who are staffing the offices and filling higher management positions, these people are creating what could be the next major city. Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum envisions Dubai as filling the gap in markets between New York, London, and Tokyo.  Even the fashion world is coming on board, as Dubai hosts its first international fashion week in March of ‘07.  Looking at the map, this vision makes sense.  Precious little exists in that region in the way of successful and creative places with the capital and size to move forward. 

So keep an eye out for Dubai.  With its combination of international flavor, forward-thinking and dynamism, this city is bound to take its place as a major world city in the coming decades.

Seriously.  If I had to have a sponsor, I would want it to be Emirates Airline.  What have I been doing all these years, schlepping around with sub par airlines like Delta, American Airlines, and United Airways?  Even my long-time favorite, British Airways, seems childish compared with Emirates.

What really struck me about Emirates, I suppose, is a reflection of the United Arab Emirates, of which Dubai is one, as a whole.  First off, the passengers I saw on this plane are a far different cross-section of the world’s population than I’ve ever seen.  There were Japanese tourists, Nigerian businessmen, Arabs in white caftans and women in bright African dresses.  The mix of cultures on this plane was unique to any place I’ve been, including New York.  In order to serve such diverse clients, the flight staff was equally global and spoke roughly 15 languages between them.

One cannot mention Dubai without conjuring images of the Palms or Burj al Arab.  New projects of similar imagination and granduer are in the works (apparently one for an underwater hotel died prematurely…).  Emirates Airlines has a similar over-the-top approach to comfort and entertainment.  Though sitting in economy class, I was given my own, large tv screen, almost 1,000 channels to choose from, an excellent meal with complimentary wine and liquors, and service that made me feel as though I were in a restaurant.  Furthermore, Emirates never makes you feel as though you are on a plane.  For example, in-flight entertainment started before take-off, eliminating the need to stare uncomfortably at the ceiling or crane your neck to catch a glimpse of land during take-off. 

That ‘innovation’ (I always thought it was illegal to show in-flight entertainment during take-off, or that perhaps it interfered with the communication signals like my portable electronic devices do…) and others, such as cameras showing the view from the cockpit (quite cool while landing) mirror Dubai’s unlimited funds approach to brainstorming.  Anything and everything goes, and there’s a delightful freedom in leaving convention behind. 

So, Erin, if you ever move to Perth, I will be taking Emirates direct from New York to Dubai and Dubai to Perth to visit you.

Or not even that long.  I left Istanbul at the end of June and returned last week for a whirlwind tour of what felt like ‘This is Your Life: Istanbul.’  While many of the people whom I wanted to see I was able to find, the physical and political landscape of the city had changed quite a bit. 

Wandering around my old neighborhood of Cukurcuma/Cihangir, I saw a new chocolate store (why did they have to wait on that one?), a new building, the restoration of another old building within steps of my old apartment, no less than 4 new cafes, and the total renovation and rearrangement of my grocery store.  I have only to think about the ongoing renovation of Stop & Shop in Harwich, MA, to fully appreciate this feat…  Istiklal Caddesi, the main pedestrian thoroughfare has seen one major department store close, and the opening of one more Starbucks, two new Body Shops, and another branch of Mavi Jeans.  And this is only what I noticed in the short time I spent.

Less obvious, but quite important, are the changes taking place politically.  While this landscape feels similar to when I left, including another high profile trial for an author charged with violating article 301 by ‘denigrating Turkishness.’  Last year Orhan Pamuk was on trial.  This year, it was Elif Safak for a sentence in her new novel ‘The Bastard of Istanbul.’  Though Safak’s trial was eventually dismissed by the prosecutor (lots of international pressure), many others continue to be charged and face several years in prison.  One such person is a friend of a friend.  The offense?  Translating one of Noam Chomsky’s works.  Now the translator, his publisher, and an assistant are all being charged and could face prison time.   While these trials and charges are nothing new, the current state of Turkey’s EU negotiations make the scrapping of this law unlikely.

With less than a month left before the deadline for Turkey to open its ports of Cyprus, the country is at (as it always seems to be) a crossroads.   Should Turkey refuse to open its ports, which many say it will if the EU doesn’t allow trade to the Turkish Northern part of Cyprus, potential repercussions could be the freezing of accession talks.  This will change the climate in drastic ways, for both Turkey and Europe.   Already most Turks I talked to are anxious about the economy after a marked decrease in tourism this summer.  The economic situation coupled with a future-changing EU decision that many Turks expect (many of the students I spoke with last year think that the EU never took Turkey seriously), does not bode well for the country.

It doesn’t take five months for things to change around there–in one month things could be very different.  But my guess is that life will go on in Turkey, and it will continue to define itself as a very unique country for both better and worse.  Regardless of what happens, if I return again I’m sure I’ll still find the Bosphorus lined with fisherman at all hours of the day…

Italy, as already established by millions of others, is a great country– food, people, and quality of life.  However, from people that I’ve spoken to, it sounds as though Italy might be going through growing pains associated with EU membership, the euro, and social structures that are changing at different rates.

Because I am on the dollar, I tend to think of everyone in Italy as being .3 times richer than I (the exchange rate being roughly 1 euro to 1.3 dollars) with a parallel cost of living.  However, I learned that the cost of living is a bit higher and average starting salaries are much lower– about 800 euros/month.   While costs of basic necessities vary–rent is higher in the US and we typically pay outrageous sums for health insurance–the average Italian is not living as large as I thought.

Because the typical budget is a bit tight, most families need two incomes to get by.  With childcare costing about 350 euros/month, parents with small children have a hefty additional expense.  This doesn’t necessarily get any easier once children begin school– many Italian schools apparently still send the kids home for lunch and school ends much earlier than the average work day does.   The school schedule, it seems, will have to do a lot of changing to keep up with the needs of Italy’s families.  These financial and scheduling constraints have likely contributed to Italy having the slowest population growth in Western Europe– .13% between 2000 – 2005 according to The Economist.

Regardless of whether change comes internally or externally, Italy has a lot of growing to do.  Hopefully, it will happen in such a way that preserves the heart of an excellent culture.

Here in Lucca, a city of about 100,000 in Tuscany, life is good.  Though, as I witnessed with my hosts, people work very hard, the rhythm of life is different enough from the in the U.S. to provide time for friends, family, long walks, and longer dinners.  The city’s walls are still intact, bordering a city center that does not all cars, save those of the center’s residents.  Even so, few people drive– it is much easier to walk or take a bike.   A large path bordered by trees tops the old walls and one can find people running, biking, or walking with friends all times of day.  In the early afternoon on Saturdays, before lunch, everyone goes for a walk with their family or friends around the city center.  This walk quickly becomes stop-and-go, I saw, as our hosts kept bumping into friends and stopping to chat. 

Food here is simple and exquisite.  My new favorite meal is a pile of greens (usually arugula and a special small Italian green) topped with bits of fresh Parmesan cheese and bresola (a cured, seasoned beef sliced very thin) and drizzled with olive oil and lemon.   I try to eat this as a lighter lunch as prelude to dinners that involve several big courses.  I’m usually one of the first people to disparage American portion sizes as being grossly large.  I realized, however, that I have it wrong.  The amount of food served in America is often the same as that served in Italy.  The difference is in the timing and structure of the serving.  In the U.S. the bulk of the food comes in an entree served relatively quickly, limiting the dining experience to an hour and a half at most.  In Italy, however, the food is spread out over three courses that typically take much longer to serve.  Instead of eating quickly and going home to watch television, Italians make the meal the event, providing ample face time with friends and family.  Eating a large amount of food over the course of several hours, as Americans do on Thanksgiving, becomes a lot more forgivable.

While 12 hour workdays aren’t uncommon for my hosts, the timing of the day includes a long lunch that allows for lunch at home and perhaps a nap, and a much later dinner.  And the lack of cars, while limited to Lucca’s city center, forces people to walk to places to which most people would typically drive, allowing for more exercise and opportunities to bump into someone you know.

Lucca’s combination of size, transportation, and location is rare.  However, I hope it doesn’t change (its residents do not seem keen to see it change either) because to me this city exemplifies the best quality of life.

By request, I thought I would mention some of the other very cultural things I did in London.   Among the many museums we visited (including the National Gallery twice…) the highlights were the Velazquez exhibit at the National Gallery and the Parthenon Marbles at the British Museum.  I was fortunate to have my visit coincide with the opening of the Velazquez exhibit, which was an excellent chronological portrayal of the artist’s development, bringing together many paintings that had not yet been displayed together.   I was surprised that an artist painting in the 1600’s would have the painterly style of Velazquez–rather than focusing on depicting absolute reality, he would let a few well-placed brush strokes indicate changes in light or texture.

 While at the National Gallery I also enjoyed checking out the room with the Rubens paintings, especially ‘Samson and Delilah’ for which the National Gallery paid the second-highest price for a painting to that date.   While studying at the Aegean Center for the Fine Arts in Paros, Greece, I attended a lecture that went through the dubious provenance of that painting.  At first glance I thought that perhaps the naysayers were wrong–the painting is beautiful, and has many similarities in painting style to the ones around it.  However, on closer inspection, and upon stepping back and looking at the four largest paintings together, Samson and Delilah did seem out of place.  For one, the colors are much brighter than the typical Rubens.  Also, the painting last the fine cracking of the other old Rubens paintings.  And some of the painting style did not seem to match quite right.  There are additional incongruities that you can read about at http://afterrubens.org

The British Museum houses expansive collections in an incredible building.  We had time to see only a few exhibits, and the one that the British Museum is perhaps best known for is the Parthenon Marbles– friezes and pediment statues taken from the Parthenon in Athens generations ago.  Though debate is ongoing as to whether these marbles should be returned to Greece, I must say that the British Museum does an excellent job displaying the art and does its awesome origin justice, placing the marbles somewhat as they would appear in the Parthenon, so that visitors can get a sense of the size of the building and the structures in relation to one another.  Furthermore, the pieces are at a good height for viewing–no need to crane one’s neck– and the museum is free so the marbles are highly accessible. You can read more and see pictures here:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elgin_Marbles

London has unlimited cultural activities, from museums to markets, and my wonderful hosts made sure I was able to see many.

All around London people are wearing little paper poppies on their lapels.  At first I thought it was a British version of the Red Hat Society, but soon learned that it is part of the Poppy Appeal, a drive to raise money for UK war veterans.  Coinciding with Veterans’ Day in the US is Armistice Day in the UK.  While just as in the US, the day has morphed from remembering those who lost their lives in WWI to those who lost their lives in all wars in which the country has fought, here the feeling of loss and remembrance permeates society much more deeply.

Throughout the city architectural incongruities indicate scars of WWII.  Pre-war buildings cover much of parts of the city, to be interrupted by the occasional modern building– a sure sign that the building that had been there previously had been bombed.  Other parts of the city center are totally all new buildings, often indicating much more widespread damage.

World War II feels much closer here and the losses from war much more visible.  The contrast between the way remembrance days are observed in the US and the UK reminds me that living a war is much different than observing it from thousands of miles away. 

At first I was going to title this post “A Tale of Two Cities” so as to describe the contrast between two bars I visited my first night in London.  However, I quickly realized that the title was implying a strict division of the city into two parts– a division that isn’t visible to the casual visitor, at least.  Rather, the city hums with options that spill beyond neighborhood borders and overlap in a tantalizing mix.

The first night here we went to a classic English pub with Christina, Sachin, and some of their law school friends.  The pub has a long central bar from which it serves several beers (ales? lagers?) including an organic wheat beer.  The fixtures are wood and brass and businessmen and students sit at tables throughout, including one by an in-use fireplace. 

Later that evening we went toward the Bengali/Bangladeshi end of Brick Road and had drinks at a club that featured new reggae artists.  The customers hailed from all over– Ed befriended a few Italians visiting London and one of the law students from Oklahoma joined people from Jamaica, India, and Bangladesh on the dance floor.  Outside the club men at a long food stand were selling late-night Indian food.  Just beyond, we joined the line for salted beef bagel sandwiches at a shop just across from a Turkish ocakbasi–grill– like the sort that Ed and I would often walk past when living in Istanbul.

London’s dynamism is due to the laudable incorporation of a wide range of people and traditions into a longstanding and unique culture.   Greek, Korean, Turkish, Bengali, Spanish, Jamaican, and Italian restaurants claim their spots between classic British pubs.   True, this cultural cornucopia hasn’t come without its share of bad reactions, as exemplified by London’s homegrown terror suspects.  However, on the whole the city’s people seem to quite literally feed off each other.  As a visitor, and one who lived in New York City, I find the blend energizing, and something that I will certainly miss on the next stops. 

Like the tag-line says, this blog will feature stories and observations from a three-month trip around the world, starting from Boston.  The itinerary includes stops in London, Italy, Istanbul, Dubai, India, Thailand, Cambodia, Laos, Vietnam.  Some of these places I’ve been to before, some I haven’t. 

In every place, I am expecting to see things that I would stereotypically expect of that place, as well as the anomalies that make traveling the best way to learn and challenge your beliefs.  I hope to relate some of that range of life on this blog.  

Sadly, photographs will be uploaded only when I return, as I have no way of doing so now.   Also, please feel free to check my boyfriend’s blog www.doitwhileyoucan.wordpress.com for more stories from the road.  Between the two blogs, there should be enough stories published every week or so to keep people entertained….  Thanks for reading, and I look forward to your comments.