Wednesday, July 15, 2009

a visit to a mosque, anarmed!!! (ta da...)

delhi story #1
the red mosque, the great the mosque, the mosque with no end... it has been called all those and more.
and that is why, yours truly (me! me!) has decided to do you all a favour and take a look
at all these claims of grandeur and splendor. well...

it was more this czech guy's fault... he turned up one morning when i was drinking my
morning coffee and pretending to read the morning paper. this guy just got up from his seat
two tables from me came to my table and said " hai can i sit with you?"
naturally i said "no you fucking idiot! i don't want any company!" he backed away in disgust and alarm and it took me another 20 seconds to see he doesn't understand cynicism and say something like "relax mate, just kidding, ha ha, ha ha". at this point everyone were looking at me in disbelief
and i had to clean his chair and make room for him.
naah... i'm kidding. he's a nice guy, i told him he can sit right away...
he told me about some czech liquer and offered to bring it for a taste. i said yes and so we
parted to our rooms for a few minutes.
five minutes later i came back to see my new czech friend involved in a conversation and number exchanging with a bald old indian with a laptop. i came closer to discover that he was actually getting direction to the great mosque in which he can get raped... naah... kidding... just a mosque. no rape in the working hours i'm sure...
(Mr. angry Muslim; I would say the same thing about a synagoge if i had a chance, so no reason to kill me yet. thank you for your kindness)
anyway a short while later we went to the metro to do my first Delhi touristy thing.
the metro was amazing, just like modern ones, but with a constant announcement to beware of pickpockets and the constant feeling of claustrophobia surrounded by a wall of Indians who
for some reason just like pushing each other for some reason and for another one (probably the same) refuse to use deodorant or shower before attending public areas.
it's not everyone. just everyone i had a chance to stand next to in the subway...
we finally get to the mosque area. a guy with a bycycle riksha comes up to us and offers
his services for 60 rupees. but ha ha! we were warned by the bald indian to not pay more than
20! and so we say "10" he says "20" and we get on... organized chaos is all around us.
we reach the mosque. 2 guards are standing there, neither one is even looking at the direction
of the gate. i guess they either don't care or maybe fanatic christians are not found in abundance here...
we go to the main gate. a welcoming sign informs us that in case we are interested in taking photos inside (well... we did just travel in the boiling heat for an hour and were covered in some
random indian's sweat.. so yeah... we would like some memory of this place) we would have to pay 200 Rupees. we pay for one camera (but i had another one! ha ha! take that radical islam!)
and take off our shoes. before we go inside a guy asks us to pay another 100 rupees to make sure
our shoes don't magically disappear while we are inside. and finally we get in, escorted by an old
guy with a limp who obviously doesn't speak any language since he explained stuff by pointing
and mumbling (rgagr rgahgsg rgahg! eh... aefar far faerasd) and that's how we came to know
about 5 prayers a day for mouslims and the best areas to take a photo at (the guy would
go to a corner, make a square sign with his hands and show us the right angle for the photo, so
helpful these people...) after we took a walk around he tried to get us outside but we asked
to see the tower (oh... don't get me started about that one...) when he showed us the tower he
decided he's shown us enough and asked for some money for his services. he did a 2 sign with
his fingers. obviously we thought he meant 20 but noooo.... he's one of those greedy old mumblers... he asked for 200 and made sure it's from each of us. we gave him 100 for both (the whole fucking tour took about 5 minutes! he wanted 8$ for mumbling at me! to be honest... if
he would mumble at me. i mean, if i could feel genuine concern from his side and the tour would take around 10 hrs... sure, i'd give him the money... or anyone else who'd like to mumble at me
for that amount of time.)
ok... enough about that... we climber the damn tower (another 100 RPS a head) took some damn photos, mine were illegal with my damn camera being un-paid for... and got out of there.
not before some nicely dressed Muslims mumbled at us some more and took our picture.
we got out of the mosque and met this riksha puller who's around 70 and i was so impressed by his english i just had to go with him. (he could mumble at me for 5 hours and i'd give him 400
rupees, easy... i mean this guy was older than my dad and he pulled us for 15 minutes through
traffic on a bicycle!!! he must be getting so many women... damn!)
we got out of there and went to counaght place. to see the magic garden in the center.
now this public garden which is about 10 sqr kilometers. so we had to go all around it to find
the thing. then the guard tells us we cannot come in with a camera!!!! i mean... what the fuck?!
it's a park in the middle of delhi but your not allowed to take pictures?! i offered my czech friend
to the female guard as a sex slave and she accepted so we were able to get my camera inside.
when we got there the only reason i found to prevent cameras (although phone cameras are allowed, again, what the fuck?!?!) is because theso called "biggest fountain in india"which is supposed to be in the center of this huge park is not working. so they are probably trying to hide incompetence or something similar... anyway i took a picture inside!! I AM soo bad! i think
i'll try stealing something next. maybe i'm missing out on a career...
that's all folks. next one is about agra. which is probably where god sends people to burn when
hell is over booked...

Monday, July 13, 2009

the story of a luggage and the way to delhi.

this one is more informative than good. so it's up to you to decide when it's
too much for you and you can skip to older or later posts.

The way to delhi was amptwith surprises. the first one being my one night stay (not stand... sorry)
in istanbul.
our flight from israel was delayed and a very helpful (although kind of scary) girl kept telling us that the connection flight in istanbul will wait for us.
i decided this is a good time to get drunk and headed for the dan lobby to fuel up on beers.
after several visits to the lounge and one visit to the local gas chambers (they call it "smoking room" there...) i pissed twice and got up on the plane.
2 times wasn't enough and i had a strong urge to piss during the two hours which i didn't please since a turkish mother and daughter were sitting next to me and i didn't want to bother them
(that's what being nice and stupid will do to you... learn from my mistakes!)
just when i was about to burst we landed.
got off the plane and found out none of the connection flights didn't wait for us and so a group of 30 hot headed israeli's stormed the help desk which for some reason thought everything will go
smoothly after everything went wrong...
2 choices were presented by the shocked-crying-nervous breaking down staff of turkish airlines.
1. aquire a foreign passport and fly through dubai.
2. stay the night in a hotel paid by the company and fly on the same flight the next day.

since i was in no hurry (and i don't have a foregin passport...) i chose option 2.
i couldn't tell you much about turkey... lot's of people, all the women look angry and everything
on the radio sounds like war propoganda... (don't worry, they're not going to brainwash me, it's safe)
now if i had to guess i would say that at this point mu luggage was hiding from airport security and assembling it's weapons in the basement area of the airport...
i also met a couple of israeli guys, one of them was a tv producer which was accidently gay as well, and when we talked about traveling and sex he was utterly shocked that we straight people
actually have to do anything more than smile and wink to have sex in israel and for that reason
he thought it should be even easier abroad. (like just thinking about someone and sex will
immedialtely bring her to you and give you a night of never ending pleasures...)
well then... NO! it's not even fucking close to what we have to undergo to get that thing you call
intercourse... obviously for some of us it's easier than others... much easier (B' i hope your reading this for a change) but for most of us normal and moderately shy people it's the equivalent of studying a semester in physics studies...
the next day i got back to the airport.
while i was going through security checks my luggage was outside the government building plotting to kidnap the prime minister's son.
i wen't through all the security exams and passed with blazing colors. asked again regarding my luggage and was once again re-assured it's coming with me wherever i go. we entered another lounge, this time because the israeli's had their way with one of the clerks demanding compensation and once again i got to get drunk before the flight for free. this time i pissed for 3 times before boarding to make sure.
on the flight i was seated next to an 18 yrs old very rich indian (who might as well have been 30 by the way he looked) who tried to ask me questions and tell me things which i did not understand. but i filled everything i missed using my superb imagination and so i know that
he is a transvestite who came to india to become rich by putting up a show with sex and horses and his real dream is to dance in the russian national ballet group.
back to my luggage for a second... it has kidnapped it's target and was now driving towards a safe
house it prepared with some of it's luggage friends. they were just going through their list of demands when i was touching down in delhi.
i arrived and went to the luggage belt to wait for my best traqveling companion. (i call him deuter... cute isn't it?) after everyone from my plane got their companion and left i went to ask the in-charge guy what happened to mine. after filling out some forms i was released only to be called back 3 minutes later during my "this flight is finally over" cigarette by the same guy who said they found my luggage. i came back with him and he is pointing and a light blue with white dots trolly saying "this is yours sir!, your luggage!" (he's not asking... he's telling me it's mine!!!) now...
this got me a bit confused since only ten minutes ago we went over my name and luggage description... and what he showed my couldn't be further from what we just talked about.
i should have accepted it as a bad omen for what's to come but as always i'm too innocent to understand.
went out again and found a hotel in the main bazaar. delhi experiences will be written in coming posts, this one is dedicated to the luggage.
by the way... at this point my luggage was at a shoot out with police forces after their hideout has been discovered. several of my clothes were hurt but it was still usable.
after a few days of "the luggage is coming tomorrow don't worry sir" the 4th day was marked with "sir, your baggage is lost" with an indian accent which only made it more annoying.
at this point everytime i called them they got me furious at "hello".
my luggage on the other hand was very calm in her prison cell in turkey. the last thing i got from
it was an e-mail saying "prison, sorry, goodbye"
so i know it is lost but they refuse to pay me any compensation... i kept at it untill i sent them an angry e-mail threatning with a law suit and telling them they have caused me great grief... (it's always good to be in great grief when you want to sue somebody)
and demanding my "delayed luggage" compensation. their regular response up to this point was
"sir, your luggage is lost so we cannot give you delayed compensation". i always though that if something is delayed and then lost doesn't change the fact it was delayed. so i made a point of claiming that money.
eventually i got a call from the manager who said he's sorry and told me to collect the money the next day. i was happy i made progress and went outside to celebrate by buying a new mp3 player. on the way to the ATM i was stopped by some producer who aid she needs extras for some commercial or something for the next day. that's nother story but for this reason i did not get to collect the money once again. 2 days later i went to the office only tofind out it's closed (closed!!!!) after i've been told it's open by yet another turkish airline employee.
i decided to send everything to hell and went on the bus to manali. more stories of delhi will be published shortly. much more interesting than this one, i promise...