Month: January 2005

Cairo may have been Hustle City, but Delhi must be the Hustle Capital of the world. I sort of knew this would be the case, judging from my experience with Indian merchants in other parts of the world. About the only people who will hustle you in Singapore, for example, are Indian tailors. They always start out casually chatting with you as you walk down the street. They like to act like they’re just sociable people who are interested in visitors. You learn to never answer questions like “is this your first visit?” in the affirmative because you quickly realise that it will only encourage them. The next thing you’ll know, they’ll be taking advantage of your naivety while they herd you into their cousin’s shop.

So sure enough, in the lion’s den of hustle (so to speak), I found Delhi to have the most persistent hustlers I’ve ever come across. Now I had long heard that India was notorious for its hassles in getting from place to place and dealing with the crowds, but I found the hassle nothing compared to the hustle. In fact, the biggest hassle was from hustlers trying to “save” you from the alleged hassle of travelling through India.

At times it would get so bad walking around Connaught Place that I would have to retreat to my room back in the guest house. Not only did people constantly try to steer me into some travel agent or “emporium” of Indian relics, they would do so in such a persistent manner that I couldn’t help but become extremely protective of myself. I would initially try to respond politely, but when that only seemed to encourage them, I would end up snapping. I later found myself snapping at people on the street the second they opened their mouths with lines like “You look like a movie star!”

This was interspersed with beggars walking alongside me and pleading for my money as well. Even some of the begging appeared to be hustling. I spotted families of beggars walking down the street before they saw me, and they seemed to be healthy, happy people. Their kids were smiling and running around playing with each other. As soon as I came into view, however, that would immediately change, and they would start their groaning and begging act. It was quite disturbing.

The saddest incident happened when a group of kids tried to persuade me to visit a travel agent. I kept telling them I wasn’t interested, but they kept persisting with their sales pitch. I finally whipped around, glared, and snapped “I don’t care!”, only to find a frightened and confused look in their eyes — as though they honestly felt they were trying to do me a favour. Poor kids. I actually felt sorry for them. It was as if someone told them that they were doing an honourable service by helping tourists find places to spend all the money they were just dying to get rid of. As though I had been out on the street yelling that I had all this money and desperately needed somewhere to spend it all.

After a typical bout with the hustling, I would find myself back in the seclusion of my room at the guest house to watch my multitude of Indian cable TV channels and nurse my post-traumatic hustle stress disorder.

There were headlines in the India Times yesterday about a CIA study that concluded it would be inevitable that China and India would become the world’s next superpowers over the next twenty years. I didn’t get a chance to read the article, but it seems hard to imagine with all the problems India is currently facing—namely its poverty.

It almost seems as though a huge percentage of the population here is living on the streets. I had to venture out at 6 AM for a trip to Agra the other day, and I must have walked past well over 100 people sleeping on the streets in a three-block jaunt I had to make to hook up with my tour company. And those were just the ones I noticed who weren’t sleeping in total darkness. There were a number of fires burning along the way to keep several of them warm.

Along the train lines and along the highways outside of Delhi are tent villages with scores of people living outside. At most intersections and in shopping areas, you will come across beggars, staring in the windows of your taxi or reaching in for money. If you happen to be in an autorickshaw, which is a noisy tricycle-type motorcycle with a roof but no doors, they’ll just climb in with you. Some are disabled, many are small children who spend their time otherwise playing with each other in the gutter or median strip, waiting for the next traffic light to stop traffic so they can approach. No one seems to hand over any money to these people. Lonely Planet advises giving a donation to a charity that will look after them instead. It’s all quite disconcerting.

On the other end of the scale are the very wealthy, living in individual compounds that initially looked like embassies to me—each with big gates, guards, and servants. There seem to be doormen for every store you go into and security guards lurking around inside, presumably to keep the homeless out. My guesthouse locks down tight from about 11 PM until 9 AM and has a guard sleep on the couch near the front door. Occasionally you’ll hear banging on the front door in the middle of the night, which is a bit creepy.

As I continue with the Indian government tours around Delhi and Agra with many tourists with close Indian ties, I’m discovering that five of our stops are actually beautiful UNESCO World Heritage Sites. In addition to the Taj Mahal, there was also the Agra Red Fort, Delhi’s Red Fort, and the following…

Jantar Mantar Observatory (Built in 1724), New Delhi, India (similar to a UNESCO site in Jaipur)

The Tomb of the Mughal Emperor Humayun (1558), Delhi, India

Monuments and Buildings of the Qutb Minar complex (finished in 1368), Delhi, India