Old Delhi

We woke up this morning and were prepping to leave for the Delhi Tour when the power went out. Daunted by the prospect of taking bucket showers in the dark, some of us went to the salon down the street to have our hair washed and dried. In the meantime, Pamposh employees working to return the power started an electrical fire in the main lobby.* Fortunately, it was small and extinguished before most of those still in the hotel had a chance to evacuate.

Our biggest stop on the Delhi Tour was the Jama Masjid in Old Delhi, reputed to be the largest mosque in India. There were as many Delhians milling around the inner plaza as tourists, most in small family groups outside to enjoy a Sunday afternoon. They had a small square roped off for birdseed, mobbed by dozens of pigeons. Two teenage boys were preparing to fly a kite. When they saw we had cameras, several groups of pre-teen girls approached us and requested to have their photo taken with us. They were most excited just to see the photo on the camera screen afterward—it gave the impression that they didn’t see digital photography very frequently.

In addition to removing our shoes and covering our heads, we girls were given long floral robes to put on over our winter coats. Unlike our other stops, we weren’t approached by any of the men for photos, but some of them started sending the girls sharp looks if the young girls spoke to us for too long. Most of the group was herded out about ten minutes before the call to prayer. I’m so glad we had the opportunity to visit these places of worship—the mosque, the Sikh temple, and a couple of Hindu temples. It reminded me of how Christian churches in the U.S., both across denominations and even within one denomination, can have strikingly different atmospheres. Witnessing believers of a religion in active practice gives you an understanding that no textbook can: a first-hand insight into how certain cultures and social practices rise up around religions.

The rest of Old Delhi is a maze of narrow, crowded alleyways, lined by old two- and three- story buildings all crowding in on each other and criss-crossed by a maze of electrical wires. The alleys are so narrow it’s not possible for cars to pass through most of the neighborhood, so people travel on foot, by bike or rickshaw. We finished the day with a stop at a reputed sari shop in Chandni Chowk and by sharing a whole goat at Karim’s. Even though Old Delhi is predominantly Muslim, the neighborhood was filled with Indians of all backgrounds. We passed Sikh merchants outside a Sikh temple, were seated near a Hindu family at Karim’s, and asked directions from a Muslim rickshaw driver. The customers and the merchants throughout Chandni Chowk appeared to be from all of these religions, too.

Our lecturers have spoken about how diverse India is, and how over time the main cultural traditions impact each other and evolve. Visiting Old Delhi was a perfect way to witness this interaction in real life.

*See Casey and Heather’s blog post

Diane Raub MPIA 2011