Long day of travel from Dehradun to Delhi

Today I left the Wildlife Institute. It was so nice to have all those facilities to use for that week. I feel really behind on everything because of the days of traveling I took first, but at least this way I won’t lose momentum by traveling in the middle, or at the end.

I spent the week reading reports, looking up contacts online, looking up data online. Besides the data, it was basically what I’ve been doing to a lesser degree already on this project. The first day I had access to the internet, Saturday the 28th of June, I worked for 10 hours straight, and got myself locked out of the dorm, so I slept in Dr. Badola’s office. Luckily she had a couch.

At the moment, I’m in the airplane on the way to Leh. “On the way to Leh,” heh. Outside the window is a glorious view of mountains capped with snow! I know a pictures would come out crummy, so I won’t even bother. But it’s beautiful, with the black and white relief.

Anyway, Dr. Badola and Dr. Hussain at the WII were so incredibly helpful. They pointed me in the direction of different contacts for the same organizations I’d identified, more specific names and emails, different from the heads of the office I’d found, and who are so uncommunicative.

On Thursday, I finally sat down to call the people who didn’t answer by email, or for whom I didn’t have emails. Some were helpful by phone (the Central Water Commission quickly gave me two contacts in the areas that are better suited to the project, Chandigarh and Simla), and some were incomprehensible. A few for whom I had no email address, and who were having trouble with the language barrier, asked that I send them an email so they could better understand what I was doing. However, I think I must have written their emails down wrong. The accents can sometimes be so heavy.

Now the mountains outside are brown and rocky. They are so barren! I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s like being on another planet, or the moon.

But enough about my progress, or lack thereof. I need to talk about my nightmare of a day. I’m constantly tied up in knots about days of travel, and it turns out I have good reason to be. Today went about as badly as possible, without me actually missing any connections. So I don’t know if this will make me more nervous about travel days, or less, since it could barely get any worse. I’ll go into detail because I’m so baffled by the whole ordeal.

I thought I had it all under control when I got a fellow student at the WII to order me a rickshaw to come up to the campus and take me to the Interstate Bus Terminal (ISBT). However, as I was walking up to the rickshaw, a couple outright stole it from me! I was dumbfounded by how blatantly rude they were. So I had to order another rickshaw, at cost to myself in the form of the STD/ISD/PCO phone calls that were made. This rickshaw offered me a price 40 rupees higher than the other one would have been. I’ve been in no position to bargain all day because I really needed to go to wherever I was going, and needed to get there quickly. So I didn’t argue much. But it was frustrating that Sahas’s work negotiating me a good rate was also stolen by that couple. So, I got to the bus station much later than I meant to—it was about 2. Some of this lateness was my fault—not realizing how long it would take to close up shop, pay for room and board etc, at the WII hostel. Packing up wasn’t too bad because I’d done most of it the night before. I left my suitcase in the office of the hostel, so hopefully it will be safe there. Dr. Hussain must have forgotten to tell them I would be doing that because they seemed really unsure about the process when I finally was able to communicate that I wasn’t taking it with me.

So, I got the ISBT, and went window to window, trying to find some information about when and where the next Delhi bus was. I was happy to take deluxe, non-, AC, or non-. But no one spoke English at the first two windows. Either that, or they just blatantly ignored me. I’m not really sure what’s worse because when they don’t speak English well, they tend to tell you “yes” no matter what you ask, which is confusing, and they tend to tell you any answer rather than figure out what you’re actually asking and figuring out how to tell me the correct answer. So the first information I got about the “next” Delhi bus was that it was at 10;30, which I knew was false because they went hourly, even on Sundays. Finally, someone who spoke good English told me where (stall 40) and when (3pm) the bus would be leaving.

I went to sit near stall 40 and waited. And waited. And waited. Finally a bus pulled into stall 39 at 3:15. I asked the crowd that instantly thronged around the bus whether it was going to Delhi. But I was told “They are taking Jaipur riders first.” At first I thought maybe the bus was going to Jaipur via Delhi, so I wasn’t too concerned. But then someone told me I should get in line for the bus tickets, which was weird because I knew the tickets were sold on board the bus. But I went and got into the “line” just in case. The “line” consisted of a group of Indians, all with cash in hand, thrusting it towards the attendants. I guess whoever got the cash snatched up was first in line. Eventually, from scraps, I picked up that the bus was basically being auctioned to either Delhi or Jaipur—whichever group bought the most tickets. Which seems like an unsustainable system. So we were still in line for the regular bus that would leave later, which let me tell you, looked a little grim. First of all because there were about 50 people in line, and second of all because the bus really looked uncomfortable. I hadn’t been set on having AC or a “deluxe” bus, but a little room for my huge backpack would have been a must. But that one sold out, and there were no prospects for another because of the rain, I guess. And this rumored landslide.

Luckily, I found three kids (students) in the same predicament, and long story short, we decided to share a taxi back to Delhi. I offered to pay more for it, and in return they offered to accompany me on the second part of my trip to VasantKunj, Jenny’s part of the city. They said it wasn’t safe riding alone at night. Ignoring the part where I’d only just met them an hour before, I could tell they were being quite chivalrous, and I know for sure now that I made a good character judgment in the end.

I had really looked forward to sleeping on the bus since I hadn’t slept much the night before, up late packing, up early paying off debts and having breakfast. But the boys kept asking me lots of questions and wanting to chat, which was sweet, but annoying when they would do it right as I dozed off. They got me some dinner, chat and some paella, as well as a lassi and a piece of gum.

Finally, I arrived at Jenny’s, where she took good care of me, and then I slept for one blessed hour before the taxi I ordered was due to arrive. Only, it never came. I tried calling them (waking Jenny to get the number), but they had no record of the order. Just as I was ordering another one, a rickshaw drove by, so I was able to catch it. This was very lucky because if I’d been in that neighborhood any longer, the packs of dogs would have probably torn me apart. Nothing swayed them or scared them.

Got to the airport, had been dropped at the wrong terminal and abandoned. Another auto driver offered to take me to the other terminal for 100 rupees! It was ridiculous. I said I’d walk, but he said it was 4 kilometers the back way, which was a mistake on his part. I said I’d pay 40 rupees max if it was 4 kilometers. After all, he’d still be at the airport and able to get another fare right away. He said OK, and he drove me what was significiantly less than 4 km. I got out and gave him a 50, but he said no, and demanded a 100. I argued with him but he was obstinate, as if we hadn’t had our bargaining conversation at all. Finally, I gave him the 100rupee bill that I’d been carrying around for weeks because no one would take it—it was really ratty and had some weird stickers on it. He tried to give it back to me, but I was so angry at him, I jumped out of the auto and said “Huh! I guess you should have taken the 50 after all! Hope you’re happy with your life.” And ran through the ticket gate to where he couldn’t follow. I hadn’t been that angry in a very long time. It was partly because I’d had such bad transportation luck the whole day so far.

After that, it was pretty clear sailing. I got through the tickets bureaucracy pretty easy, thanks to going to Nepal, and was sitting in the terminal waiting, a full hour before the flight took off. There was a slight delay once we got on, maybe because of the rain. They served breakfast, and gave water, and I had taken my altitude sickness pill, and I was sure things would be looking up. And as you saw from my interjections earlier in the entry, things certainly looking more beautiful.