Songs being listened too:
Summer in the city --Regina Specktor
Peach Plum Pear -- Joanna Newsome
I haven't written for a while.... so I guess I'll write something now. Anything....
hmmm.... I guess I haven't told you all about my DHL experience.
Ok... so a couple weeks ago, my dad sent me a package thru a company called DHL which is kinda like FedEx. He was sending me my laptop with my Hindi rosetta stone and some clothes. DHL's motto is something like "Duty free door to door delivery", which I thought an impressive promise, seeing how everything in India seems to be covered in manure. I later found out that "Duty" was actually tax on imported items....or something.
So I get a call.... it was a man with a strong Indian accent that I couldn't decipher (and I'm pretty good with the accents now). It took me 10 minutes to figure out who was calling, another 5 minutes to figure out that DHL was not an Internet provider, and another 10 minutes spelling out my Email so he could write me whatever the [Hades] he was trying to tell me. I never received an E-mail, but I did receive another phone call from a nice enough gal with a very understandable accent. She told me that I had to come down to customs to open my package and something regarding "Duty fee". This sounds simple enough, but by metro and taxi it took two hours to get there.
Once I arrived at (the opposite, and desolate side of) the airport I could tell I was going to have trouble finding a ride home, since I was on the opposite side of a very large airport and there were no taxis to be seen. It was 9:00 when I arrived. long story short, I was there for another NINE HOURS before I went home. luckily there were 5 other equally frustrated people that were called in for the same thing and waited the same hours before going home. One of them I was very thankful for, as she turned out to be my advocate/translator to the DHL bureaucratic slaves who spoke "no English, Hindi only".
In that nine hours we were switched from room to room to warehouse to room to warehouse to office to room to warehouse. It was chaos. No one knew what the other was doing. The warehouse where I knew my possessions lay in captivity anxious for their owner, reminded me of that place from Indiana Jones where they ended up putting the Arc of the Covenant (never to be seen again... I might add).... except not nearly as organized. I swear to you that I saw a man drive a fork lift at least 30 mph right past me, narrowly avoiding impailing a co-worker while holding a giant box that read "Fragile" and "This side up^" upsid down as it peeled around the corner.
After a long time they finally brought out my box and opened it right in the middle of the warehouse. They didn't even look at anything, but I did and was pleased to see that my computer had survived the forklift ride from hell that I was sure I'm sure it had experienced. One of my only comforts while in that giant warehouse of emotion was texting april. I told her that the only way I could make since of all of this chaos, was that in my two year absence from India, a race of advanced primates had taken over India's biggest courier services and bureaucratic systems. to this she replied "Get your filthy hands off of me, you damned dirty apes!". That phrase stuck with me and became somewhat of a mantra for the rest of my hours in DHL.
My advocate translated to me that they might want as much as $100 dollars from me (which I didn't have) for "Duty fee" on my "duty free" package. This kind of pissed me off. I felt like they were robbing me with a fountain pin. She told me to refuse to pay whatever they asked.
After opening my box, they ignored me a matter of hours. It was so frustrating to be reunited with my things and be so close to the door, but still have to wait to be robbed. In this time I actually tried to steal the package three separate times. The first try I carried the whole open package right past the security guards and pretended like I had authority to do so... and I made it surprisingly far before being stopped by an armed guard. The second attempt was very similar but I didn't get nearly as far. The third attempt would have been successful if I had ran: I realized that everything in the package could fit inside the laptop bag, which was much more of a discrete container than a giant box (this box was way to big for the items it contained). I put everything in the bag and just waltzed out the door. I made it 10 feet past the guards before one of the workers started shouting for me to come back and the guards took my stuff again and put it in the box.
After refusing to pay the duty fee, they realized that the box was "duty free" and said I could go home. "Does this mean I can take the box?".... "No. We will send it to your address" was the translation I had from my advocate. I told her to tell the man that "I'm not going to let your irresponsible, incompetent, joke of a company touch my personal belongings anymore. I'm taking the package home". I'm not sure if all that was translated. He finally gave me permission, but he didn't say it with confidence or authority. I have a feeling I wasn't actually allowed to do it, but I made such a stink about it that I think he feared me a little. I then went back to the warehouse and made a fourth attempt and making off with my belongings; I was once again met by shouts "Stop! no! Down!" but I just kept walking with the box and shouting that I had permission. when someone touched my box, I muttered quite inaudibly "get your filthy hands off my box you dammed dirty apes!".... and that was apparently enough to get me out the door. it was 6:30pm when I left. (I should mention that I am in no way implying that Indian people are apelike.... I am just fairly convinced that DHL is run by primates)
I ended up walking a half mile with my package (the guy said i couldn't leave the box there for some reason) before I found a taxi. When I found one, it was a pre-paid taxi, and maybe the most honest and pleasant man I have met in Delhi. We picked up his wife from her work at the other side of the airport before he turned on the meter. He stopped at a gas station and told me he would be a while in the gas line and said I could go in and buy a drink if I wished. This convenient store was ironically called "In & Out". I didn't realized that in the 9 hours I was in DHL I had nothing to drink and nothing was offered to me. Without realizing it, I bought 2 liters of water and 5 liters of soft drinks and brought it up to the counter. In my head, it was a perfectly sensible thing to do, and I had every intention of drinking the 7 liters in the car. It wasn't until I brought them up to the counter and paid for them that I realized how ridiculous it was for me to buy that much. The man at the counter said "Are you going to drink all of these now? are these all for you?! hahaha!" and I laughed back and replied "Seven liters? are you kidding me? of course not!!"
by the time I made it home it was 8:00pm. I left had left that morning at 7:00 pm. Do the math. It took me 13 hours for me to get my package. the worst part was that it was one of my last precious days left with April that I had to waste on a company that was payed to deliver door to door. I don't take much comfort in the fact that there are much much greater injustices in Delhi.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Sunday, August 8, 2010
8/6/10 Touching on our Agra trip. Playgerized
song being listened to --- "Make sure everyone has enough/and then we'll see the kingdom!" -- Psalters, dumpster divers
To maintain honesty and clairity, I should mention that this was not taken out of a journal entry, but an E-mail I sent alex. I may have changed a few things around, but it's basically copy and pasted.
Totally off subject... but today we went to Taj Mahal. To tell you the truth, there is nothing I'd rather do less in India than see big rich buildings which were created behind the plow-horses of War and Slavery. What really touched me today was the blue sky in agra. I havn't seen blue sky with white clouds since have been in delhi. All day I felt closer to God.
We went to this other place before Taj, and it was this palace built on a hill just outside of agra. as I rode in the auto I passed all this poverty and despair ... but as I kept riding furthur up this hill... it all started disapearing. Once inside the palace, there was a great view of the valley below, and what really struck me is that you couldn't tell that there was anything wrong in that valley. That really spoke to me... it's no wonder that Kings, Presidents, and the Pentagon officials are so far removed from their people, from the cruelty of war... the injustice of slavery. As long as a King stays in his palace, he dosen't have to see the consequences of his actions... he doesn't have to feel human pangs of guilt or sympathy. It's kind of the same reason it's so easy for us to buy clothes when we know they could be made in sweatshops.... or buy produce when we know that we could be fueling a tribal war. Idk.... I'm just rambling.... their is no real point to this chunk of writting =)
[Tonight as I was waiting for the train back to Delhi with April] I was feeling overwelmed again; partially because I havn't slept in 2 days... but also because the train stations are sites of the most depressing displays of poverty in India. There were kids all around, and an old lady begging... and there were just so many people. I had run out of money except for 40 rupees (less than a dollar) and I had no food in my bag.. and when I went to give someone my extra shirt, I realized i had left it at home.
Giving can be really tricky in India: if you give money to kids it's likely they will never see a penny of it (because they report back to their boss/slave driver). You also don't want to give if there are to many needy people around because you can be mobbed, which can leave you or the children in need injured or worse. but I was just fed up with it... the being helpless/powerless. I was gunna just buy this on little old lady a bag of peanuts and that was that!
Sure enough, (even though I did it as descretely as possible), I got surrounded by a fairly large group of beggars (actually it was only about 8.... I guess it seems like a large group with all their hands in your face) and they all wanted something. I was thinking "oh crap.. I can't even give them ANYTHING even if I wanted to". but I looked at the stand I was standing at... and I saw bags of chips for 5 ruppees each (a really good price... even for India).... and as you may have figured out, at 5 ruppees a bag, I could buy 8 bags for 40 rupees.... which was the exact ammount of money I had! It felt like the fishes and loves were multiplying before my eyes! but of course, after I gave them each a bag they didn't beleive me when I told them I literally had no money left to my name.... so they follwed me to my bench where april was. April didn't have anything to give them... and we told her not to because we were already making a scene, and it was sure to turn into a mobbing as soon as the other begging people got wind of us.... but one of the begging girls kept pointing at april's hair... at her bobby pins. April took like 10 out of her purse and distributed them among the children and they all giggled and ran off to put up their dirty hair out of their eyes and they had this look like they got the greatest thing in the world. I know we didn't do much, but it felt right. I felt peace about it. I know I can't solve the worlds problems, but I can do something.... anything that I can, you never know how much a simple thing like bobby pins or 40 rupees can be just what someone needs.
My lesson I learned was (very appropriately) a quote from Gandhi I've already heard a billion times, "Whatever you do may seem insignificant to you, but it is most important that you do it."
To maintain honesty and clairity, I should mention that this was not taken out of a journal entry, but an E-mail I sent alex. I may have changed a few things around, but it's basically copy and pasted.
Totally off subject... but today we went to Taj Mahal. To tell you the truth, there is nothing I'd rather do less in India than see big rich buildings which were created behind the plow-horses of War and Slavery. What really touched me today was the blue sky in agra. I havn't seen blue sky with white clouds since have been in delhi. All day I felt closer to God.
We went to this other place before Taj, and it was this palace built on a hill just outside of agra. as I rode in the auto I passed all this poverty and despair ... but as I kept riding furthur up this hill... it all started disapearing. Once inside the palace, there was a great view of the valley below, and what really struck me is that you couldn't tell that there was anything wrong in that valley. That really spoke to me... it's no wonder that Kings, Presidents, and the Pentagon officials are so far removed from their people, from the cruelty of war... the injustice of slavery. As long as a King stays in his palace, he dosen't have to see the consequences of his actions... he doesn't have to feel human pangs of guilt or sympathy. It's kind of the same reason it's so easy for us to buy clothes when we know they could be made in sweatshops.... or buy produce when we know that we could be fueling a tribal war. Idk.... I'm just rambling.... their is no real point to this chunk of writting =)
[Tonight as I was waiting for the train back to Delhi with April] I was feeling overwelmed again; partially because I havn't slept in 2 days... but also because the train stations are sites of the most depressing displays of poverty in India. There were kids all around, and an old lady begging... and there were just so many people. I had run out of money except for 40 rupees (less than a dollar) and I had no food in my bag.. and when I went to give someone my extra shirt, I realized i had left it at home.
Giving can be really tricky in India: if you give money to kids it's likely they will never see a penny of it (because they report back to their boss/slave driver). You also don't want to give if there are to many needy people around because you can be mobbed, which can leave you or the children in need injured or worse. but I was just fed up with it... the being helpless/powerless. I was gunna just buy this on little old lady a bag of peanuts and that was that!
Sure enough, (even though I did it as descretely as possible), I got surrounded by a fairly large group of beggars (actually it was only about 8.... I guess it seems like a large group with all their hands in your face) and they all wanted something. I was thinking "oh crap.. I can't even give them ANYTHING even if I wanted to". but I looked at the stand I was standing at... and I saw bags of chips for 5 ruppees each (a really good price... even for India).... and as you may have figured out, at 5 ruppees a bag, I could buy 8 bags for 40 rupees.... which was the exact ammount of money I had! It felt like the fishes and loves were multiplying before my eyes! but of course, after I gave them each a bag they didn't beleive me when I told them I literally had no money left to my name.... so they follwed me to my bench where april was. April didn't have anything to give them... and we told her not to because we were already making a scene, and it was sure to turn into a mobbing as soon as the other begging people got wind of us.... but one of the begging girls kept pointing at april's hair... at her bobby pins. April took like 10 out of her purse and distributed them among the children and they all giggled and ran off to put up their dirty hair out of their eyes and they had this look like they got the greatest thing in the world. I know we didn't do much, but it felt right. I felt peace about it. I know I can't solve the worlds problems, but I can do something.... anything that I can, you never know how much a simple thing like bobby pins or 40 rupees can be just what someone needs.
My lesson I learned was (very appropriately) a quote from Gandhi I've already heard a billion times, "Whatever you do may seem insignificant to you, but it is most important that you do it."
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