The next day was rainy and cold. I went through my bag to find, my $150 raincoat, the lifetime guaranteed REI jacket I swore would be the last I'd purchase in my life, was gone. The rain had mellowed after twenty minutes and I headed to New Delhi to explore.
The fog was so thick, the white buildings of Connaught Place were all but invisible. New Delhi is a city that is a wonderful design architecturally, but totally impractical for the foot, cycle, ox car traffic of the city. I realized I was going nowhere fast and combined with the rain, I headed home.
I had a half day to kill, so I rounded up my gifts and planned to send some packages back to the US. The hotel manager directed me the post office, but I couldn't find it. Three other random people gave me direction to this elusive post office, but none seemed to agree on its location. Looking for something in Pahar Ganj is the worst thing one can do; all the normal hassle of just walking is magnified by twenty.
"Are you lost?"
"Rickshaw?"
"See my shop?"
"Something to smoke?"
"Where are you going?
"Hello friend! Excuse me."
I was beginning to hate the gratuitous use of the word friend by complete strangers.
Finally, a fourth person finally told me the right way. The post was hidden on the second floor, behind a fruit stand. I walked up stairs and greeted the postman. He was filing through some letters, looked up at me for a moment, then went back to work. He continued to ignore me for five minutes until he finished his stack of papers. I greeted him again, but he didn't look up. A couple minutes later, an Indian man walked up, body checked me out of the way, and was given prompt service. I left to rejoin the jungle below.
"Where are you going"
"Hashish?"
"Rickshaw?"
"10 rupees!"
Every second, another person would get in my face. If I looked in any direction but straight ahead, "What are you looking for?" I veered to a side street, hoping it would be more peaceful, "Where are you going? Are you lost?" I went back to the main drag and booked it back to the hotel, so I could just read until I slept, then I could catch the next bus out of town.
"Hello friend!"
"What's my name?" I replied.
"Excuse me?" the random man said.
"What is my name?" I asked, staring him in the eyes.
"I don't know."
"Then you aren't my friend!" I said and started walking away.
"Tell me your name then, so we can become friends."
I laughed, then kept walking; the man followed.
"Why don't you want to talk to me?"
"Because everyone in Pahar Ganj is bothering me all the time, trying to get my money."
"I hate this place too, but we aren't all bad."
"Oh, I'm sure of it, but I don't know who to trust in this town anymore, so I'm trusting nobody. It's safer."
"I only want five minutes of your time, just come to my shop."
"I don't buy souvenirs, they just weight down my pack and sits in boxes at home."
"Oh, not this kind of shop. I just want to tell you about a place you can go, different from Delhi, better. If you want to leave this city, I can help you leave. Only five minutes."
Now he was speaking my language.
The guy seemed cool and I had nothing better to do, so I complied. He was from Kashmir and his family owned a houseboat on Dal Lake in Srinaar, a peaceful town in the foothills of the Himalaya. The price was cheap, it even included home cooked meals. Best of all, it wasn't Delhi. The man's brother arrived. Both had the same strange left eye that always pointed out, as if looking at something to the side.v They invited me to their apartment across the street for some tea. I should have learned my lesson by now, but something gave me a good feeling about them.
"Man, you're gonna love this place! My parents are great and the love guests. You stay with us, you become family. You ever had Kashmiri tea?"
"Nope."
"You're gonna love it man! There's this Australian guy up there now, he's gonna be so happy to have company. I'm actually leaving tonight, we can go together, spend New Year's Eve up there. Peaceful place, my father will make us hash cakes. It will so nice."
"Nah man, that actually sounds cool, small relaxed New Years." I paused one second. "A hash cake would be nice. You know, I think I'll head up there for New Years. I'm in."
"Oh great. Wanna smoke some hash?" Without waiting for my reply, he started rolling a joint. "Man, did you see the photos at the office? So beautiful. You stay with us, you become family..."
Every time he'd caught his breath from his massive drag, he'd repeat his pitch lines until I couldn't take it anymore.
"Dude, I said I'd go, you don't have to keep selling it to me. Let's just chill. Thanks for the smoke, by the way."
"Oh cool man, sorry, man, that Aussie guy is gonna be so happy to have some company. New Year will be great." He then started the pitch all over again. "So, can you pack by nine tonight?"
"Tonight?"
"Yeah, it's easy to go tonight. I'm heading up there to visit my wife. We get bus together, 1000 rupees, overnight, we sleep, then we are in Kashmir. Easy, cheap. No hotel. Good for budget."
"I already paid for tonight at my hotel."
"That's ok, that's ok. Here, I give you discount the first night. You're coming for a whole week, right?"
"I'm not sure yet dude, I'm trying to keep it loose. Take it day by day." I took another drag. "This is actually a really fast change in plans. I might need a little bit of time to reorganize my route. Figure a plan."
"You can go anywhere from Kashmir. Buses go all over India from my town, no problem. Here, I'll just call the bus company and book some seats." He then picked up his phone and speed dialed a number. He asked about seats. The weed was kicking in and I stood there transfixed with his conversation. Maybe it was paranoia, but something didn't seem right. He kept talking, asking about bus times and the arrangements, when suddenly it clicked.
He was having the conversation in English.
He hung up. "Ok, they have seats. So, tonight?"
The implications of this didn't hit me at first, but it was clear that I didn't want to go anywhere tonight with this guy. "No, I need to think first. There are certain things I want to see in India and I have to work it all out first. How about this, I meet you up there for New Year's Eve."
"But it's cheaper to go direct, tonight, with me."
"The cost isn't the most important thing for me. If I'm heading all the way up to Kashmir, I'd want to go someplace in between, see some sights, maybe Amritsar, on the way."
"It's better to go direct, cheaper. Then we can go the houseboat. My father is so cool, he can make us good Kashmiri hash cakes. Home cooked meals. You stay with us, you become family..." The then continued his whole pitch again for a few more minutes before I lost it.
I started yelling. "Dude! Stop it! I said I'd go, so stop selling me your guesthouse. In the west, if somebody talks too much about their product, it means they have no confidence in it."
"Oh, sorry man. So, I'll just book the tickets now."
"How about you give me an hour to pack, look at my calendar and make a decision. I'll come back, I promise."
"Why you need an hour, just do it!"
"Stop pushing me!"
"I'm not pushing you."
"Yes you are! 'Now, now, I need to know now.' " imitating him. "I think slowly and I can't do it with you sitting there telling me I have to leave tonight. The more you push me, the more I don't want to do it anymore."
"Ok man, sorry. There's a bus tomorrow too, but tonight is much better. Here, I'll make one more pot of tea and a joint, and you can think right here."
"You just don't get it! Stop it! Seriously! I'm going to my hotel, I'm going to walk around, eat some food, then I'll tell you what I'm going to do."
"Why do you have to go to your hotel?"
"Because that's how I do things. I'll come back."
"Ok, I'll see you in an hour."
I rushed out of there and headed to the first internet cafe I could find. First, I checked up on the company, but could find no info. The Lonely Planet strongly suggested booking boathouses in Kashmir, not in Delhi and to always check the news in the typically volatile region. It seemed safe at that time, but all public transportation there was on strike. So the question was, who was he talking to on the phone? Also, the forecast showed snow for the next five days and they expected major road closings going into the higher elevations. Also, to go directly there would force me to either skip Rishikesh or zigzag around the North, making my travels a lot less efficient.
I'm a man of my word, so I returned after an hour as promised, knowing he wouldn't like my decision. We sat in the office and I told him that I would come, but after a week.
"But it's better to go now!"
"No, there's a strike on all transit in Kashmir."
"No there isn't!"
"Yes there is! I just read about it. And it's gonna snow until Saturday, probably blocking the roads."
"What? There's no snow! Here, I'll call the Aussie guy. He'll tell you, no snow."
"It is not snowing now, but it will tomorrow night."
"No, only in the hills!"
"No, in Srinagar."
"Not true."
"Hey," I said, "check the weather."
"Did you go online? Don't you trust your friend?"
"Do you remember my name?" I asked.
"What did you read? Why did you go online?"
"Because it's Kashmir and I wanted to see if it was safe."
"Of course it's safe. Kashmir is a safe place. I'll call the Australian, you talk to him."
"Hey, I still want to come, but I'll just do it in a week."
"Better to go now!"
"Why? I don't want to go now, I want to go in a week. Why can't I plan my own traveling?"
"But the roads will close soon. Snow is coming very fast."
"You just said there's no snow!"
"There's always snow in winter. Roads close a lot. You might not get into Kashmir in a week."
"Then why would I want to go there now? Why risk getting trapped in a cold place like Kashmir?"
"You won't get trapped. There's always a way through."
"Ah, then I can still go there in a week." I'd won.
"Well, put a deposit down then."
"Why, what is the point of putting a deposit down now. I have your number, I'll call you when I get there. Plus, what if I pay and the roads close?"
"You can get a refund."
"How?"
"Come back here."
"Ah, then I'd have to return to Delhi, and that is something I will never do again!"
"Just put a deposit down."
"What's the point? Damn it! How many times do I have to explain this to you, stop pushing me!"
We sat there in silence. His sale had gone from a yes to a probably, and now, it was dead. And he knew it. Finally, he made a last feeble effort. He opened his drawer, threw a chunk of hash on the table. "Want to buy some hash?"
I stood up and left. I spent the rest of the night in my room, reading until I slept, planning to catch the next bus out of town.
I laughed four days later as I saw the coverage on the news of the massive blizzard that hit Srinagar, closing all roads in and out for the unseen future.
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