A Trip to India
story & photos by Shaun
Williams
My interest in photography began in 2000 with a trip to
London, England. The trip to London was my first venture
outside of the United States and I wanted to be certain
that as time progressed and my memory faded that I would
never forget what I saw and the experiences I had. I purchased
a Canon Rebel EOS 2000 SLR film camera to document my journey.
That trip to London and the purchase of my first Canon
camera sparked an interest in photography that has led me
to where I am today as a photographer for phocas.net.
Since that time it is always a great pleasure for me when
I have the chance to combine two of my favorite things,
photography and international travel, and return to my roots
as a photographer.
A
few weeks ago I traveled to India on a business trip but
did not miss the opportunity to mix it with pleasure. Armed
with the latest Canon Rebel XT Digital SLR I expected to
take many pictures. What I didn’t quite expect was
the impact of what I saw with my own eyes and captured with
my camera. On the flight home I was convinced that I needed
to share the images and the story that went along with them
with everyone I could back home.
Arrival
It took roughly 20 hours to reach Delhi, the capital of
India, from Chicago with a brief layover in Frankfurt, Germany.
The differences between the East and West were immediately
apparent. Deplaning in Delhi occurs on the tarmac and a
subsequent bus ride will take you to the terminal building.
The terminal is not a terminal as we know it in the United
States. There was no air conditioning and it was a balmy
115 degrees or so. The “terminal” was basically
a small room with one exit and entrance to the tarmac. Every
seat was dirty and stained with something. There were no
fancy LCD’s directing travelers where to go.
I managed to find baggage claim, collected my luggage,
purchased a cab ride, and thus my journey began. The sights
and smells I experienced on the ride from the Delhi airport
to my hotel will never leave me. If a picture is worth a
thousand words then being there in person must be worth
a billion.
The poverty in India is nothing like poverty in the United
States. I witnessed people and families who live on the
side of the road and in the median. Some had makeshift tents
made out of whatever fabric or plastic could be found. The
amount of garbage and waste on every street cooking in the
115 degree heat produced a smell so horrible that covering
my nose with my shirt did nothing to ease the sting in my
nostrils. On several occasions I simply stopped breathing
to avoid the smell.
I quickly learned that navigating traffic in India is not
something any of us from the West would be able to do. While
there are lines painted on some of the roads this appeared
to be a remnant of the British Empire as they didn’t
really mean anything. Any motor vehicle can drive anywhere
on the road. Up the middle, zig zagging, inches from other
vehicles on both sides, it didn’t matter. All that
was necessary was a toot from the horn to let others know
you were coming through.
Major intersections have traffic lights that most drivers
seemed to obey. At one of these stops I witnessed what appeared
to be a mother and two children in the median next to me.
Living. There were clothes on the ground and hanging from
the trees. A tent was nearby. A boy probably no older than
5 with several large scars on his body was playing with
a knife.
The
"untouchables” are the lowest caste or class
of Indian society and they use their children as sources
of income. A mother will encourage her children to cut and
scar themselves to generate sympathy and consequently donations
from passersby. As I waited for the light to change I was
spotted by the mother and she quickly ushered her children
and herself to the side of the vehicle. I was obviously
a Westerner with money. Her and her children made repetitive
motions with their hands near their mouths. While I couldn’t
understand Hindi, the language she was speaking, I knew
what she was saying. “We are damn hungry and if you
could give us some money we would greatly appreciate it”.
After about 10 minutes had passed I had seen no sign of
anything remotely suggesting that I would be spending my
weekend in anything but misery. I began to wonder if the
cab driver even understood where he was supposed to be taking
me. A few minutes later we arrived at a walled compound.
When the gates were opened I breathed a sigh of relief as
I saw the Marriott sign. This was the only oasis of wealth
I saw on the entire ride from the airport to the hotel.
The hotel was palatial with marble floors and walls. And
most importantly, no smell.
Nearly in tears from what I saw, most of which I could
not photograph simply because I was in shock, I decided
to spend the rest of the afternoon and evening in the hotel
to collect my thoughts. I arranged a day trip for the following
morning through the hotel travel service which would take
me to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. I grabbed a bite to eat
and went to sleep.
Agra and the Taj Mahal
After some much needed rest I woke up the next morning
refreshed and ready to go. The travel coach was a huge air
conditioned Volvo charter bus. I appreciated this more and
more as we left Delhi. Each stop in traffic took only seconds
for peddlers and the poor to swarm the bus looking for handouts
or to sell peacock feathers, books, handicrafts, and the
like. As we left Delhi the next several hours gave me a
glimpse of rural Indian life. Unskilled laborers in India
can make an average wage of $2 to $3 per day or roughly
$600 per year. I saw school children sitting outdoors on
the ground in formation for class. I saw what looked to
be dilapidated straw huts. Upon closer inspection they turned
out to be homes where families lived.
Despite
the poverty and miserable conditions people seemed very
friendly. Our group was traveling in the nicest vehicle
on the road which screamed “Western tourists”.
Many people smiled, waved, and posed for pictures even as
we drove down the road. It was also quite comical to watch
the reaction of every rural Indian male on the highway to
Agra when they made eye contact with the American girl a
couple of seats behind me.
In and around the Agra area we visited several tombs, the
Agra Fort, and the Taj Mahal. Words alone cannot describe
the magnitude, beauty, and brilliance of the architecture
involved. The buildings and tombs from Agra were all built
between 1300 and 1600. It’s amazing how structurally
sound those buildings are and how original paint can still
be seen in some of the tombs. However, the Taj Mahal is
not painted. The color is actually smaller slivers of marble
that were individually crafted. You can begin to understand
how it took 20,000 people over 20 years to build the Taj
Mahal. After visiting the Taj Mahal we were taken to a marble
factory where descendants of those who helped build the
structure still practice marble craftwork using the same
techniques by hand and even a secret glue recipe used to
set the smaller slivers into hand carved areas of larger
pieces of marble. This is what gives the marble work its
painted appearance.
Delhi
On Sunday I hired a personal tour guide for a half day
to take me to some of the sites in Delhi. It was scorching
hot which made it all the more interesting that the men
still wore pants and most even wore long sleeve shirts.
The women were mostly dressed in traditional Saris. I saw
nobody but westerners in shorts.
The
tour guide took me to the British Imperial part of town
where government buildings, monuments, and diplomatic residences
exist. These areas appeared to be the nicest part of Delhi
that I saw.
He also took me to another tomb and the oldest part of
Delhi that exists. Delhi is a city that has been destroyed
seven times throughout the course of human history. It is
currently in its eighth reincarnation. However, a small
section of the first city still exists. These structures
were constructed in the 9th and 10th centuries. Even more
amazing is a steel column that was erected in this part
of town by the builders of the original city. This steel
column dates back to roughly the 4th century as it is over
1600 years old. The strange thing is the column was coated
with something that made it rust proof even though tests
have shown it is over 99% steel. To this day it is unknown
what was used to coat column to make it rust proof. Looking
closer at the column you can see ancient writing in Sanskrit
inscribed. I’m not sure if we know what the writing
says. I expected that if we did there would have been a
monument or something nearby telling us. Either way it was
absolutely amazing. After visiting the old city I did some
shopping and headed to the airport to catch my flight to
Hyderabad where I would be working for the week.
Hyderabad
Upon arriving in Hyderabad even though it was dark I noticed
a drastic difference in quality of life. The city seemed
a bit more like New York or L.A. than a third world country.
There were many modern buildings, shopping centers, restaurants,
bright lights, and a bustling night life.
My previous experiences in Agra and Delhi felt pretty third
world compared to Hyderabad. Although Hyderabad still suffered
from infrastructure issues and poverty, wealth was also
very apparent. It was particularly interesting to see what
must have been multi-million U.S dollar homes with a wall
around it yet right next to the wall were tent cities of
extremely destitute people.
I
worked in a part of town called High Tech City. This is
the part of town which has basically been built by large
American corporations searching for cheap labor. The buildings
in this part of town are very Western looking in appearance
and amenities. These types of buildings are the only types
of buildings in India that use heavy machinery during construction.
Most buildings in India are built entirely by hand using
rather primitive construction techniques.
Even though High Tech City was very nice the power would
go out several times per day and backup generators would
kick in. I know the infrastructure of the country is not
as advanced as the United States’; however, I couldn’t
help but compare the situation to the rolling blackouts
experienced major US cities during the hottest parts of
the summer. In our case it isn’t so much of an infrastructure
problem as one of simple supply and demand. In India it
was probably a combination of both.
I also had the opportunity to visit a nightclub in Hyderabad.
Unfortunately it was on a Wednesday night and only an hour
before closing so there were not many people there. The
club was called Bottles and Chimneys and happens to be one
of Hyderabad’s hot spots. Much as we have bottle service
in the United States they have a hookah service in which
flavored tobacco is brought in multiple hookahs. I am not
a cigarette smoker by any means but the water cooled strawberry
and blueberry tobacco was excellent.
Home Again
The smells, colors, poverty, culture, heat, and many other
things made India the most wonderful travel experience I
have ever had. I had adjusted to the power outages, heat,
no hamburgers, and Indian food. I appreciated the friendliness
of everyone whether they spoke English or not. Every person
who could speak English always addressed me as sir, yes
sir, or no sir. Despite the initial overwhelming shock by
the end of the trip I found myself not wanting to leave.
This article can do nothing to convey what I experienced.
If you ever have an opportunity to visit India, jump on
it!
For photos from Shaun's trip, check the Misc
2006 and for photos from the club night he visited,
go to the Bottles
& Chimney Album