The Wandering Chocoholic

New Delhi, India

Hi from New Delhi, India!

Is the world still standing? It’s hard to tell from here. On the one hand, I’m grateful to be a bit removed from the aftermath of the election. On the other hand, I sort of feel like crawling under a blanket and giving a giant hug to everyone I love right now. Which is tough when you’re all on the other side of the world. So, virtual hugs, everyone. I don’t know where the silver lining is here — I don’t think there is one — but I do know that the human spirit is remarkably resilient, and somehow, we will all prevail.

Anyway, back to India.

No rupees for you (or me, or anyone)…

I arrived in Delhi late last night, around 1:30am, after a long and stressful flight. Cut off from the internet and the news, my brain kept imagining nightmare scenarios stateside, and inventing new ways to make me panic. I thought it would be good to disconnect for a while; instead, it may have just made matters worse.

Anyway, upon landing, I was greeted with utter chaos. See, the Indian government, in an attempt to stamp out corruption, had issued a country-wide freeze on all ATMs and debit cards for two days. Plus, it declared all old 500- and 1000-rupee notes to no longer be legal currency. This currency crisis meant a near-total shutdown on the availability of cash for anyone in the whole country.

Naturally, for me, a foreigner arriving in the middle of the night, this was less than ideal. I didn’t manage to get any rupees before the trip — they’re technically illegal for foreign nationals to bring in from outside the country, and my bank was giving me problems when I tried to purchase some. Even if I had, they probably would’ve been declared void, anyway. With no way to withdraw cash from an ATM, I dug out my emergency USD sock stash and lined up at the one exchange place still operating at the airport. A half hour later, I’d barely moved in the line when they announced that they, too, were out of cash.

Well, ****.

I don’t mean to make this all about me. The cash crisis is affecting over a billion people in India much more seriously. For me, this is merely an inconvenience; for most people here, it’s a real problem. Imagine if the government of Canada suddenly announced that any money bigger than a toonie was not legal tender — and, moreover, announced it the night before it happened? Now imagine you live in a society that runs primarily on cash? Yep, total and utter balagan here right now.

But, for someone stepping off the plane in the middle of the night, with no knowledge of the system, it made for a really stressful welcome to India, capping off a stressful series of events. I’ve had better weeks.

Anyway, I left the airport around 3am, a bit dejected for having been unable to sort out my cash or phone situation, but otherwise intact and with all baggage in tow. Luckily I’d prepaid for an airport transfer ahead of time — good thing too, or else for all I know I might still be stranded at the airport. My female cab driver from the nonprofit program Women on Wheels got me into the city in no time flat. There’s very little traffic at that hour. However, somehow people still drive in the middle of lanes and all over the road. Yes, I’m really in India. (No cows seen yet, though.)

Holy smog, Batman!

The other thing contributing to the post-apocalyptic atmosphere is the smog. If I thought Beijing was bad last summer, well, Beijing’s got nothing on Delhi. Smog levels are so high that the entire city is enveloped in an oppressive orange haze. Delhi is the world’s most polluted city even at the best of times, and the best of times, these ain’t.

The smog makes it tough to “see” the sights. It also makes the city look like some sort of chemical warfare zone. So far I haven’t experienced any real issues breathing, but it’s not pleasant.

Cashless in New Delhi

I woke up this morning after a mere few hours of sleep, to find the ATMs still shut down and the currency situation no closer to being resolved.

Chris arrived around noon, also cash-less. We met up with a couple of other members of our tour, Emma from Ireland, and Ellen from Australia, also arriving without cash.

I had phoned the tour company’s local office to try to figure out what we should all do about money. They sent over a representative from the office around lunchtime, who did his best to help us out, but unfortunately it wasn’t much use. He managed to exchange a small amount of my emergency stash of US dollars for rupees, but only for the old, no longer valid rupees. See, some of the banks were open for limited hours today, allowing locals to go in and exchange their old 500- and 1000-rupee notes for new currency in limited quantities. So the idea was, they gave us old money, and we would go down to the bank to swap it for new money. Members of another tour we’d met earlier in the day had managed to do this and to get some cash.

But there are more than a billion people in India, and they’re all in this mess. Needless to say, the queues at the banks were miles long. We arrived at the bank and were told that, as foreigners, we could cut the line. None of us felt very comfortable with this, but we dutifully followed the tour company rep and were told to wait in a certain spot, and within 10-15 minutes, a bank employee would come and get us. He then left us there and headed off.

But, a few minutes later, we could tell that this was a Very Bad Idea with a capital V. A man in front of us was ushered in front of the queue, and the crowd — many of whom had been waiting for hours — understandably did not take too kindly to Johnny Q Western Tourist butting in front. As they shouldn’t. We quickly assessed that the situation was about to get out of control, and chose to hightail it out of there.

So, there I was, no better off than earlier. Well, actually worse off, since a good portion of my US dollars were now useless invalid rupee format. The one thing they had done was given me about $10 worth in small bills — the 100 rupee notes are still legal — and so I had a few bucks more than before. This wasn’t enough to do much, but it was enough to procure a local SIM card at the shop down the block. It took about 5 yards of paperwork (everything in India does, it seems) but I did manage to get a working phone with credit and about a gigabyte of data for under five bucks. Could you imagine that in Canada?

Local (really, really local) sightseeing

With none of us having any cash, we of course couldn’t do a heck of a lot today. We walked around the few block radius of our hotel, browsing in a few of the shops. There’s a lot less temptation to buy stuff when you can’t. I met a woman from another tour who was hoping to get a pedicure, but the place was cash only so she instead came with me to try on some kurtas and Indian tunics at the shop next door.

In the evening, Chris and I met up with Emma and Ellen again, and we walked over to the main shopping street a couple of blocks away, dodging motorbikes and taxis and cars all the way there. We found a GAP-like store selling a modern take on Indian-style clothing and all tried on a bunch of stuff for fun. They took credit cards, so a couple of people bought a few things. The funniest part was the post-purchase customer satisfaction survey right at the cash register, which Chris was asked to complete by the sales guy while he hovered over her and watched.

And of course, we needed to eat at some point. Luckily our hotel has a rooftop restaurant and the food there is quite good. We ate all three meals there today, since the hotel offered to put them on our bill and charge us credit later. We met a few other members from our and other tours in the process, and got some good tips for things to see and do in other parts of the country from those returning. We sat up there and had a beer on the roof, and the skies began to clear enough that we could even see the moon. Not bad.

Marching bands, chariots and Indian crickets

After dinner, we crashed out early, all still suffering from lack of sleep and the effects of jet lag. At one point while getting ready for bed, we heard a cacophony of sound outside that differed from the constant drone of what we’ve nicknamed “Indian crickets” (i.e. horns honking incessantly at high volume). No, this was a clear sound of a marching band. We opened the window and looked outside to see a giant parade going by, with drums, a brass band, men on horseback, fireworks, and giant chariots. Was it a wedding procession? We couldn’t tell for sure, but it may have been. It looked like fun, at any rate.

So, that was my first day in India. It’s been interesting, to say the least. I’m hopeful that tomorrow, the ATMs will re-open and we’ll be able to get some money and go see some of the sights of the city. Meanwhile, sleep is calling me.