SALAAM BALAAK TRUST AND SO MUCH MORE

Yesterday I took a city tour given by former street kids, sponsored by a great organization, called the Salaam Balaak Trust. This is our guide, Tariq, who loves Justin Bieber, hence the hairstyle. He has just turned eighteen and has been living in one of the care homes run by this organization. He ran away from an abusive home situation in Uttar Pradesh at a young age (his father beat his mother every day and when he lost all the family's money gambling and drinking, the abuse spread to the children). He got a bus to New Delhi and slept on the street or in the train station, where he was regularly beaten by the police (sleeping on the street is illegal). He made some money from rag-picking (collecting rubbish from between the railway tracks and selling it to sleazy trash processors, who sell it to recycling centers. Whatever he earned had to be spent every day, though, because any left-over cash would be stolen from his pockets when he slept.

Eventually Tariq was convinced to visit one of the drop-in centers run by this NGO. The street kids don't trust the police or adults, so getting them in the door is tough. At the drop-in center, they can have some clean clothes and food and take some reading and writing classes. They can watch tv one hour a week. If they want a second hour, they have to take more classes. If they want to watch tv every day, they have to agree to move into one of the NGO's care homes and go to school. They ate helping thousands of kids, girls and boys.

Tariq has just turned eighteen and is about to take his exams. He hopes to apply for a scholarship next year to go to university in America. He would love to be assigned Alaska!!!

He gives these tours to improve his communication skills.

I learned so much on this tour and got to meet the kids at a drop-in center and also at one of the care homes, where they were anxious to show off their artwork.

The photo shows Tariq in front of a wall, like many in this very poor part of the city, with beautiful tiles all along the walls portraying gods (Hindu gods, Jesus Christ, Sai Baba, a Muslim mosque). Any idea why these tiles are there? These walls had all been being used as toilets, but now they cannot be, since no one will desecrate a wall being watched over by the gods!

This is the famous Lotus Temple, the center for the Bahai faith in India. It was quite a long walk to get here, but it was quite beautiful. The temple was surrounded by many hectares of lawns and lush gardens. I wasn't prepared to see more tourists than at the Taj Mahal, though. The place was packed. There were many rules, too, with guards blowing whistles and barking commands at us as we filed in for the one mile walk from the entrance to te temple. Stay to the left. Leave your shoes here. Wait here. Now walk. Now stop. Single file. Single file. 

The Bahai seek to create a place for people of all religions and all cultured can come together to pray. It was very peaceful inside the temple. (you weren't allowed to talk)

Yet more Mughal architecture!

Ok, so like most every friendly conversation in India, this one must also must eventually lead up to a request for money.

Yesterday and today I've spent time at the Naz Foundation (India) Trust. This is an amazingly run NGO here in Delhi, dealing with HIV and AIDS. In addition to the other programs they operate, they run a care home (orphanage) for children with HIV.

I met with the founder and Executive Director of the organization, a powerhouse of a woman, named Anjali Gopalan. Everywhere I've gone in India, I've met someone who knows Anjali and raves about what good work she is doing.

I was very impressed to see the facilities at the care home. This is a clean, bright, colorful, happy place where the kids live, study, play, get great nutrition and regular medical care and lots of love. The children (41 right now) attend classes every day at the various schools in the neighborhood. They also get tutoring back at the care home to assure that they do well at school. There is a doctor and nurse on staff, with nutrition experts and round-the-clock staff and volunteers, caring for the needs of the children.

I so enjoyed spending time with the kids. I think the best testimony of the success of this program is not just that the children are healthy, well dressed, well fed, and clean, but that they are so happy. There is clearly a great deal of love in this home and they have created a great big family inside this care home.

In addition to living children, Anjali also loves dogs, so there are five dogs living at the care home and the children love interacting with them. There was even a two-legged puppy living on the second floor that was terrified of adults, but adored the children. Once a day, the kitchen staff even prepares a big meal for all the dogs in the neighborhood. (What did I tell you about the importance of creating good dog karma?)

I feel so fortunate to have had a chance to meet with these kids and spend some time with them. On my first visit, we were all a bit shy with each other, but when I went back today, they did a dance performance for me, and clearly loved showing off. They were real hams, especially when I pulled out my camera! (They were not actually hams, since many of them are vegetarian, but you know what I mean.)

After the dancing, I went to another location to visit their drop-in center for HIV-positive gay men. This was also an amazing place, with men on all levels of  sexual spectrum, having a comfortable place to come and hang out, see a doctor, dance, socialize, have a facial, have their unwanted facial hair removed by threading, and maybe even laugh at the funny American guy in the dhoti.

In addition to all the amazing work Anjali is doing with HIV/AIDS, she has also been very influential in leading the fight in the courts regarding the repeal of Section 377 of the penal code, which had made homosexuality a criminal offense (actually it criminalizes sexual activity "against the order of nature.") Because of her political connections and her stellar reputation in the field of HIV and AIDS, she was able to stand up and fight this injustice, while many gay men and women were afraid to come forward and take a stand. This judgement is now being appealed in the Supreme Court, and once again Anjali is there, fighting.

So the real reason for this message is that the Naz Foundation needs your help. You are rich. (Trust me, if you'd seen what I've seen in the past two months, you'd understand that you are RICH!) So PLEASE, go to the Naz Foundation web site,

http://www.nazindia.org/

Look at what they are doing and DONATE.

PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE. 

नमस्त

THE TAJ MAHAL

The Taj Mahal was built by Emperor Shah Jahan as a memorial for his third an favorite wife, Mumtaz Mahal Begum, who died giving birth to their 14th child in 1631. The death of Mumtaz Begum left the emperor so heartbroken that his hair is said to have turned grey virtually overnight.

Rabindrabath Tagore described the Taj Mahal as "a teardrop on the cheek of eternity." It is widely considered the most beautiful building on earth. One of the seven wonders of the world.

Well, it's hard to argue with that. The Taj Mahal is so completely dramatic. The first thing that strikes you is how peaceful it is. The government has managed to keep all traffic at a reasonable distance, to reduce pollution and the resulting damage to the monument. As a result, there is no street noise. All you hear is the song of birds (and not crows like most other places here) and the grounds are so lush. The Taj is on the banks of the sacred Yamuna River, so there's plenty of water for irrigation. The flowers and plants are as healthy as any I've seen in India and there are all variety of trees all around.

The focus, though, is the Taj Mahal itself.

Architecturally, the Taj is brilliant. The structure is built upon a large marble plinth, raising the whole thing several meters, so when you view it, all you see in the background is sky. Brilliant.

It's quite amazing seeing something so iconic right in your face. We've all seen so many images of this place, so there's no surprise about what it looks like. And yet it manages to take your breath away. My train arrived in Agra early, at 8am, so I was nice and early at the Taj and there were not yet hoards of tourists. Like everyone I snapped loads of photos and eventually made my way inside to view the mausoleum. The Pietra Dura (marble inlaid with precious and semi-precious stones) inside and out were stunning, mostly with flower motifs, representing the garden of paradise. Surrounding the cenotaphs in the middle is an amazing filigree screen carved out of giant single pieces of marble, with such intricate latticework allowing light into the central area. Available next season at Wa in small, medium, large, and extra large. Prices available upon request.

I enjoyed being somewhere where more photos were taken of the thing itself than of me. Not that I didn't have my share.

There is more to Agra than the Taj Mahal, it turns out. This is the Agra Fort, a nifty piece of Mughal architecture if ever there were one. Puts the Red Fort in Delhi to shame. It seems the British tool all the good stuff from the Red Fort, but never got around to pillaging this one, so there's still Loya to see inside. Nice view of the Taj, too. I guess that was the point. 

Really, what Mughal ruin would be complete without a few monkeys? They're all over Agra.

नमस्ते

OLD DELHI & A GAY PARTY

So my love affair with the old city continues. I've been there at least once a day since I've been here. There's always something exciting happening. Strike that. There's always like a thousand exciting things all happening at once.

This morning I was up and out well before dawn to catch the first Metro train into the city for my bicycle tour of the old city. The Shah Jahan Tour. I couldn't imagine how we would maneuver the tiny lanes around Chandni Chowk, but we began early enough that the neighborhoods were just coming to life. Still, it was pretty death-defying riding bicycles through this area. There were seven of us on the tour.

We made our first stop in the spice market (an area of the old city where huge sacks of spices are brought in and then resold) at a large communal building next to the Fatehpuri Masjid. Loads of spice workers (all men) worked and lived in this building, surrounding a huge courtyard, which had been filled with makeshift housing. As soon as we entered the building, and began climbing the stone stairs through several stories to the roof, we all began coughing and sneezing due to the turmeric and chili peppers in the air.

As soon as we were in the building, one of the dogs sleeping there, followed me. I pet his head and that was all it took to make a lifelong friend. From then on, whenever the guide was telling us things, this dog had his front legs on my leg and his head nuzzled against my waist. The other people on the your were horrified, but I told them its better to make friends with the nice dogs, because you never know when you'll need protection from the mean dogs.

Plus it made up for yesterday. I was walking down the busy Chandni Chowk, packed in between hundreds of people, walking down the sidewalk, so congested that I couldn't see where I was going to see if I was about to fall into an open sewer, when all of a sudden I stepped on a dog, sleeping in the middle of the crowded sidewalk.

The bicycle tour lasted three hours. We stopped for chai near Civil Lines and then stopped for a traditional Mughal breakfast at Karims, the old Muslim restaurant where I had eaten the other day. We had goat. Apparently the goat is cooked for eight hours in many spices and is not served for lunch or dinner. Only breakfast.

While we were riding near the Red Fort, a fellow said to me as I rode by, "You were here two days ago, wearing a green kurta and a dhoti!" Yes I was. This in a city of 14 million. Or as they say here, one crore, 40 lakh.

After the tour, I wasn't ready to go back home, so I walked back toward the old city to explore some more. Thankfully I had my iPhone with the interactive map. I would have been so lost on these twisty alleys, with barely any sunlight. Several times I took wrong turns and ended up down an alley, walking into someone's house. Before long, these two boys saw me and thought I looked so funny that they began running after me and yelling for the other children in the neighborhood to come also. Soon I had a whole contingent of children following me. That was a bit much.

Last night I went out to a gay party in New Delhi. My friend, Jivi, hooked me up with the organizer, who texted me the secret location. I was the oldest one there by a few decades. It was cute. Reminded me of when I first went out to a gay club in the early days of electricity. All the boys wore cologne and their best Jordache jeans. The one fellow who chatted me up refused to believe that I was gay.

You know this is a gay party?

Yes. I do.

Why are you here?

I'm gay.

Ha ha. That's funny. Where are you from?

America.

Are you married?

No.

No? Why not?

Because I'm gay.

You can't be gay.

Why not?

Because of your body and your mustache.

That's when I decided to leave.

P.S.

This tiny stall, about the size of a bathroom back home, had all these live chickens wandering around and a whole bunch in crates. Customers would chose a chicken and the clerk would pick it up and throw it at the guy with the grey shirt, who would ring its neck and then dunk it into boiling water to loosen the feathers and then pull off all the feathers and then pass it to the guy up top, who would chop it into pieces for the customer. I bought a dozen of those eggs. I think they had been laid right there. They all had double yolks. That's what fear will do. 

नमस्ते

THE RED FORT

What a cool city!

I arrived yesterday morning in Delhi, on the glamorous Rajdhani Express. The Rajdhani was unlike any of my other trains. The first class compartments were like European train compartments with carpeting and uniformed attendants serving non-stop food and drinks through the trip. Fresh linens and comforters made the night's sleep enjoyable. Two of my three compartment mates were railway managers traveling to Delhi and they explained that there are several Rajdhani trains in India. All of them go from Delhi to other state capitals like Chennai and Calcutta. Rajdhani means capital. Had I known, I might have planned my trip to use only Rajdhani Express trains. So glamorous.

We arrived at New Delhi Station at 8:30 am, right on time, so I walked over to the Metro station and hopped on a south-bound train to Hauz Khas, where Jack's apartment is located. It was rush hour on the Metro. I haven't had that much physical contact in months!

Jack's apartment is great. Very comfortable and in a perfect location, in an upscale neighborhood right near a Metro station. The only problem is, after looking all around the apartment, I still cannot find the swimming pool. I spoke with Jack's friend, Amrish, who made a joke about there not being a swimming pool. Very strange sense of humour, this fellow.

Anyhow, I just dropped my bags and headed right back out to the Metro and a train back to Chandni Chowk. I was eager to explore the old city.

There is a wonderful book by Sujit Suraf, called "The Peacock Throne" set in and around Chandni Chowk. It begins in 1984 with the assassination of Indira Gandhi and the riots targeted at Sikhs and follows several inhabitants of the neighborhood for the next 15 years. The novel is so evocative of the spirit of life in the old city, it made me anxious to visit. In fact, I re-read the novel in preparation for this trip. I highly recommend this novel.

So often, when you have high expectations for a new place, it does not live up to your expectations. Not old Delhi. The old city was exactly as I had imagined it. It's a crazy mish-mash of various cultures (Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, and Jain) all living and working together shoulder to shoulder in this tightly packed warren of tiny alleys, barely big enough for two people to pass one another without turning sideways. The alleys are so narrow that the sunlight rarely filters all the way down to ground level. All along these alleys ate a myriad of businesses: jewelers and sweets makers and chai wallahs and cloth merchants and sari shops and paper manufacturers and car parts. It's all so much to take in!!

After wandering around the alleys a bit, I walked over to the Gurudwara (Sikh temple) and observed the activity for a bit. The Sikh tradition fascinates me. Despite their carrying daggers and the ceremonial soldiers at the gates with huge spears, the Sikhs seem like a lively peaceful people, and they have those great mustaches and beards and cool turbans. How can you not love a man in a turban?

From there, I went to the Jain temple and checked my shoes. I was eager to visit the bird hospital. They allowed me to wander around. All three floors of the hospital (and also allowed me to give a generous donation!) and it was very cool. Thousands of birds of all sizes were recovering peacefully inside. Since they are Jain, they will only admit vegetarian birds into the hospital, but will treat carnivorous birds on an out-patient basis. I love that.

From there, I crossed the busy road to the Red Fort. I had been so anxious to see this former home of Shah Jahan and was not disappointed. Over 50 acres! I wandered around inside the Red Fort for about an hour, until I began to get hungry. So after posing for several photos with Indian tourists, I left.

I then headed south through more tiny alleys, chock full of people, toward the Jama Masjid, the largest mosque in all of India. That's pretty big. I had heard about an old restaurant near there called Karims, so I sought it out. Good mutton kebab and chicken curry.

There was a prayer service going on in the Jama Masjid the whole time I was at lunch (you could hear it over the loudspeaker) so I had to wait with the other whiteys for that to end, before they would let us in. This place is huge. I took loads of photos of the Mughal architecture and then bought a ticket to climb the tower. Imagine climbing the Pilgrim Monument, but barely wide enough for one person, barefoot, in the dark. The view was killer, though.

From there, I wandered through more alleys to Chawri Bazaar, where there are loads of paper sellers and wedding invitation shops and card shops (don't think Hallmark, think handmade paper cold pressed in the back). Eventually, it was late and I needed to head back to the Metro.

I had planned an early morning bicycle tour through the old city for Sunday morning, but I still had to go to the office to pay for it. I had looked at a map and thought I could take the Metro and then walk from there. I will now admit that this was a serious mistake, simply out of stubborn refusal to take a taxi. But at least I got to see a part of Delhi I wouldn't have otherwise seen. Delhi has way more trees and flowers than I had expected.

Last night I went into New Delhi to Connaught Circle for dinner. Such a different feeling than old Delhi!

नमस्ते