Paharganj

**video added 5/11, post complete**

Paharganj is a sub-division of Delhi that is known (and has been for years) as a place backpackers go, because its inexpensive and close to the rail station, metro station, and several areas of high activity (like Connaught Place/Circus for instance).  When I left my room to venture out that afternoon, as I was walking to the stairs (past the landing residents), I saw an open door that I hadn’t noticed when I came up to the room the previous night.  Heading through the door, I found a terrace/junkyard, and a ledge over-which I could survey my surroundings.  Though I finished up writing my last post about 9:30a, it wasn’t until late afternoon when I finally left the room.  The day had been mostly consumed with getting a much needed nap, hearing from the baggage people who said my bag didn’t come in from Germany and they will continue to look around for 5 days, some inventory/planning/re-organizing of my daypack, and general hiding.  When I looked over the ledge of that terrace, though, I felt a sense of relief.  While a bit crowded, dirty, and hectic, it seemed friendly in some way, and I didn’t have the fear and apprehension that I did just moments before when I put the lodging supplied padlock on my door and left.  I took a video later that evening after the chaos had largely melted away, and, bandwidth God’s smiling, I will upload it to this post.

I went down stairs, gave the daytime manager a smile (his look was great, something like “where did this guy appear from?”), walked out into the street and turned right, and then right again.  During afternoon planning session, I decided I wanted to find the Metro station that we had passed coming in in the early morning and also get a meal somewhere.  Those were my two goals for the outing; anything over and above that was bonus.  I had a general idea of direction, and with the several strokes of luck in choosing alleys, I walked straight to it.  Up the hundred steps or so, and found a map posted on a wall.  It showed the stops, but not where other things were in relation to the stops.  I asked a younger and modern-looking man if he knew which stop to use to get off at Connaught.  He said he just moved here to Delhi and didn’t know himself.  I looked around and found a booth with what appeared to be a metro station manager inside.  A few quick questions answered by the (indeed) station manager, and I was able to tick off one of the two boxes for the day, and I was only 10 minutes in.

I came back the way I went until I knew where I was, and then headed a different direction.  Systematically going through an alley and flipping back around again to my start-point so that I wouldn’t get disoriented.  After several alleys (and one not very pleasant alley - the meat alley which smelled like hot blood), I headed back to the where I knew again (the major intersection nearest the hotel, and which, by the way, looks sufficiently different when approaching from different sides).  I stopped at a guy with a cart of bananas and got two for the morning.  He said “tir-tee ru-pees” and I handed him the money.  First time buying from a street vendor, check; and it wasn’t even on my list!  During my terrace reconnaissance, I saw a restaurant a few doors down with a sign in English, and I headed there next.

“Cafe Festa” without the “i" had several foreigners in it already, though none of them spoke more than halting, broken English which I could determine at a distance as they interacted with the guys bringing menus and food.  I picked a table (I don’t think you wait to be seated here), ordered and ate half a thali plate, and got a two liters of water.  Total damage was less than 200rs which means less than $4 US.  That included a tip.  Boo-yah.

I headed “home” and was feeling satisfied that some of my confidence was been restored having successfully checked off the 3rd item on my 2 item to-do list, my calm acceptance of the probability that I would never see my actual backpack again, and realizing that in relation to Paharganj, “the bark is worse than the bite” was true again.  I took a cold shower (the head did work after all.  I didn’t want to wait for the hot water) and went to bed.  I only woke up three times that night.  Once when a “bug” quite a bit heavier than any I had visualized in my room during the daylight, ran smack into my corner of my mouth.  It was closed at the time (thank God), and he beat feet out of there, only slowed a bit by being tangled in my moustache.  Second interruption was at 11:30p when the baggage people called and said they had my bag.  I gave her the hotel info and their phone number for directions, because I was not the one to be giving that kind of information.  I went downstairs to talk with the manager (the night manager, who recognized me with a big smile and “hah-low”) and let them know that a driver was going to be bringing my bag and I would come down and get it in the morning.  And the third time at 1:15a when the driver showed up at my door anyhow.  I asked where it had been, and he said he didn’t know, he was just the driver.  The only evidence on the bag was a tag that said “RUSH” which didn’t appear to have worked.  I figured my bag had gotten a few transatlantic flights out of the deal, and fell asleep again, this time thinking about how I could cash in for those frequent flier miles.