I have long ago given in and bought my mobile phone in 1999 and got my first email-adress (I still use the same one) that same year. The new millennium brought new communication channels into my life. And even though I am not a geek, but a normal person, I love the internet. I dedicate this article to my friend the world wide web. Do I sound crazy? Maybe a little. But the internet helps my to keep in touch with my friends, who are all over the world. I can make phone calls, send photos, chat, write this blog, poke, greet, gruschel and whatever. Thank you internet!

I remember the first time I went away for a longer period of time in 1998 to South Africa. I wrote letters. Real letters! With my terrible handwriting people did not love me for sending letters. And it took a letter around 2-3 weeks to reach Germany. And from Germany I received around 50% of all letters that were sent to me – the rest was lost. Again after between 10 days and 3 weeks. I loved receiving letters, but after a while it got too complicated: writing on paper, finding envelope, going to post office, putting stamp on it, hoping you have the address on you etc. etc. How easy is email? Write, click, done! I still love receiving letters. But for important notes such as ‘send money, now!’ email is better! And for keeping in touch with lots of people at the same time. I don’t have to write to every single person I know, I write to all of them. Ok, some don’t want my mails, but they can just press delete…. The rest writes back and to those I do send personal replies. I am not one of those notorious ‘send to all’-people.

Oh, and while I was talking about Germany being cut off the world wide web. I have to go. I am currently bumming the internet at my old university and there are people waiting……..

We reached Indira Gandhi International Airport on time, so I thought there was no need for hurry. How wrong was I! This is a guide to all who have to leave India from that airport (with more or less accurate timings):

1. 23:00 Enter the airport: Use any gate, stand in the (huge) cue, show your ticket and follow the crowd. Unfortunately, from that point on, only passengers are allowed into the airport. So see off your beloved ones outside.

2. 23:30 Baggage: Run around for 5-10 minutes to find the right baggage x-ray machine, get your luggage x-rayed.

3. 23:45 Check-In: Find your check-in. Stand in the looooooooooong cue, stare at the amount of luggage that Indians are taking. Read the sign that says ‘Only one handbag is allowed’. Think of an idea how to cram your stuff into only one handbag. Discuss with Check-In-lady that 28 kgs is ok. Cry a little if necessary. Say thank you and leave.

4. 0:00 Mistakenly thought there is time. Read a little and talked to friend. If you are clever, skip this step!

5. 0:15 Customs: Find customs, stand in even longer cue. Found there is a paper to fill. I cannot tell you where to get this paper. I got it from the person in front of me. Wait. Wait. Wait. Get passport stamped.

6. 0:35: Duty-free: See the next cue. Give up and buy cigarettes.

7. 0:45: Explain to the Air France person that your flight is leaving in 35 minutes. Still, you have to stand in line. ‘The flight will wait, it is delayed anyway’. Nice, there goes my connecting flight from Paris to Berlin….

8. 1:20 Board: Finally board the plane – obviously after waiting in another cue.

Now I know why the Delhi-airport has been rated one of the worst airports world wide.  You have to wait and wait and wait.  At least this makes you so tired that you sleep on the plane.

Oh yes, I did mention that I flew Air France again. Some words to that:

I will definitely never fly Air France again! I have never had such an unfriendly service and unprofessional behavior. It was just as bad as my flight to India, where the plane was delayed for 24 hours, and I did not even get to know from a person, but was informed by SMS. And I have never received neither an excuse nor a reimbursement. My flight back home was just as chaotic. I managed to get my luggage onto the plane without having to pay extra. One point on the positive side. I had a decent seat and this time even my own television. Another point on the positive side.

Now to the negative points:
- No guidance whatsoever on Delhi airport.
- Very unfriendly staff: When I wanted to use the bathroom on the plane, I had to pass the flight attendant with his cart. He was still at the backrow, so I politely asked him to let me pass (roll his cart back for about half a metre). He just rolled his eyes and made this annoyed ‘uuuuh’-sound. I am sorry, but if someone cannot stay polite, flight attendand is certainly the wrong job. Food and drinks were also served in quite a rude manner.
- Food selection: Disappointing! After waiting on an airport for 2 hours, I expect more than a tiny salad and one cheese-roll for dinner.
- Connecting flight Paris-Berlin: I did not have much time, asked several of the staff and they just pointed the direction where I had to go. I ran and still missed the flight. I was not even called to the flight, as it should be done. Again, no guidance at all! I got on the next plane and at least received a small breakfast.

Resume: Air France has absolutely no customer service. When I was very happy with my flight from Germany to Chile some years ago (good plane, great service, perfect organization of connecting flights), I was very disappointed with my India-flight. The next time I have a choice, I will take a different airline – and am ready to pay more for better service.

Anyway: Good by India! Alvida and auf Wiedersehen!

All in all, it was a good year. It was a year that has taught me a lot. India is probably the most challenging country where a foreigner can live. Things I always took for granted, such as 24 hour electricity, moving freely day and night, eating whatever I wanted to and drinking tabwater, I learned do not come naturally. I was being stared at by men, one even masturbated in front of me. Even though I do earn Indian salary – a good one though – I am was being overcharged whereever I went.

There are many things that I did not like in my year here. I am craving for anonymity. I am looking forward not to stick out anymore, once I am back in Germany. I want to walk streets, that are clean, calm, where the next car coming up does not threaten to hit me, where people do not look at me. And still, I will not forget the smiles of the children in villages in Rajasthan, when they saw me. I do not know what they are thinking, but I have experienced that open smile that so many people write about after their India-experience. I sat with shop owners, having a cup of chai, smoking a cigarette and discussing fabric-business. I rode a camel through the desert and felt completely at ease. I sat in the shade of a tree in the yard of a Buddhist monastery, soaking in the peace. I saw amazingly beautiful women, dressed in colored sarees balancing pots with water on their heads in the Thar-desert. I sat in a peasants home, drinking a chai, playing with his children. I watched the puja-ceremony of the wedding of a really good friend, admired his beautiful bride, with her dark pink saree and gold jewellery.

There are so many amazing experiences I had in India this year, which cannot be said in words. I am very thankful for that and I will never forget the time I had here!

I wish everybody a very happy new year 2008!

What is the best and fastest way to get to Mumbai from Delhi? Well, if you have only a few days, then the obvious choice is flying. Flights are relatively cheap and offers are numerous. After nearly one year in India, I have used most of the domestic airlines for my travels: Spice Jet, Jet Lite, Air Sahara, Go Air… Every year in winter Delhi airport faces the same problem: there is a huge cloud of dust, smog and general fog hovering about the city, limiting the visibility. Obviously this causes delays in flight. The best one I have had so far was a delay of my flight by 14 hours. But not later – EARLIER! Instead of leaving Kolkata at night, I was supposed to leave early in the morning. I managed to change my flight though.

What happens is that the exhausted traveller reaches the airport after 1 – 2 hours in a cab fighting through heavy traffic. The traveller rushes into the airport, just to find the sign saying: Flight SG 118 to Delhi: delayed. Most of the signs say that. Especially to Delhi. So you sit down somewhere, every 10 minutes checking if you can start boarding some time within the next 20 minutes. Unfortunately I have not been at a single airport in India where there are enough clocks or boards showing the flight timings visible from the waiting areas. So many people crowd in front of the gate for their flight. Some sitting on stairs, some leaning against pillars, some hopefully but randomly cueing up in front of the gate. At one point a crackling loudspeaker-voice brings the following message: ‘crk – may we have you kind attention please – crk – flight – crk 118 – crk – Delhi – crk – delayed by 10 minutes’. Those 10 minutes are counted when the earlier announced 45 minutes delay have passed. So a total of 55 minutes of delay. Which is still in the acceptable region of delay-timings for Indian flights. I have heard stories of people waiting at the airport for around 4 hours. Or some delays by 16 hours.

The next step is to finally board the plane. Happily all the Indians push their way onto the buses that take you to your plane. I find pushing and shoving not necessary at that point, because the plane any way only leaves when all passengers are on board. But if they like pushing and shoving, let them have their fun. I stand back and watch that scenario and finally board the bus, once the crowd has cleared a bit. Then I sit. Finally! Buckling up, ready to go! What happens next is that the captain again announces a delay caused due to the ‘congestion’ in Delhi. Indians snoring all around me. My German soul cries at the amount of minutes and hours that I am passing sitting somewhere due to whatever. Adrenaline rises in my blood and I want to scream. But I don’t.

Then the plane taxis a little around the airport. Happily the captain announces that we are second in line waiting for take-off. Cudos for the captain! We fly. We get our tiny complimentary water bottle and two sweets. Nice. After just under 2 hours Delhi comes into sight. I see the evil cloud over the orange lights of the city. And next to our plane I see the blinking lights of at least 2 other airplanes. This can just mean one thing: more waiting. So again, we are waiting. This time for the permission to land. Heavy congestion. Yes, we know that. After the second round over Delhi, I feel the adrenaline and agression rising again. But what can I do? I am stuck on an airplane, some kilometres above the city. I wish for a parashoot. If I would aim correctly, I might even end up in Gurgaon. I have flipped the last page of my book about 2 hours ago. Nothing to read. Boredom, fatigue and anger is all I am feeling.

Finally we are landing. Now the war for luggage starts. People are strolling towards the luggage belt. More and more people are heading towards the same luggage belt. My flight does not show on the sign any more. I walk back to the big sign showing all flights and luggage belts. There are 4 flights, whose luggage circles on one and the same luggage belt! Whereas 3 of the the 5 luggage belts are completely empty. About 100 people, mostly men, are viciously trying to fight their way to the first row of the luggage belt. Several carts hit my heels, elbows poke my ribs, people stare, push, shove. I shoot a glance around the corner, spotting a little gap between the people from where I can see the belt. And at that instance I see my red backpack approaching the spot where I am standing. I dive into the group of people in front of me, grab what I hope to be my backpack, and back off. Luckily, it is my backpack! Finally, I can go home. At 1.30 AM in the morning, arriving in Delhi around 2.5 hours late.

The good thing is: I have learned to control my anger – up to a certain point. There is not much you can do on an airplane anyway. And: the next airplane I will board in this country is taking me straight out of here!

The first wedding I went to was small and only close family (around 100 people – yes, this is small in Indian terms). We were part of the whole ceremony, when the groom rides to the wedding venue on a white beautifully decorated horse. A band accompanied the procession and played Punjabi music – and the family danced around the groom and horse. I really enjoyed it! Once we reached the venue, the groom went inside and sat down on something like a throne, waiting for the bride, while the guests were eating snacks and dancing a little. The bride was brought in by her family and sat down next to the groom. Brides in India are colorful and beautifully dressed with lots of gold jewellery, so different from the white brides in Western culture. Then the photographing session started. Poor groom and bride have to smile for about 1 hour as all the family and friends and everybody else wants a picture. After that comes another Indian tradition: groom and bride are being fed sweets by their relatives and close friends. Considering the amount of people, one can imagine how many sweets they have to swallow. I could not help feeling sorry for both of them.

Once this was over, the pooja (prayer) ceremony started. First the priest let only the groom perform some rituals – this took around 45 minutes. Then the bride came and another pooja session started with bride, groom and close family (brothers, sisters, parents). This took another hour. When all poojas are said, the bride and groom throw some rice into the fire, the knot is tied and they walk around the fire and are officially married!

The second wedding I went to was again a Punjabi wedding. Around 1000 guests this time – so a proper Indian wedding with family and family of family and friends with their family, work colleagues etc.

We reached there for the party and finally I had what I was waiting for: lots of dancing! So in the end, I went to two weddings and I must say I am amazed. Indian weddings are the most spectacular events that I have seen. In Europe a wedding is something very serious, but still happy. In India a lot of money is spent to make the bride look as stunning as possible. Long ceremonies are being held – while most of the guests eat. This is something I found quite surprising: for such a devote country, the weddings are quite unemotional and even though there are a lot of religious pooja sessions, the guests did not quite show the respect I would have expected. The father of the bride even talked on his mobile phone during the wedding pooja of his daughter.

I wish both couples a very happy life and I am glad that I was part of their weddings!

When coming to Kolkata you at first expect extreme poverty. You picture families in rags living on the streets and slums everywhere. It is surprising that you do not find that. Yes, there is poverty. It is still India. But I have seen a lot worse in Delhi, where whole families sleep on basically every street. In Kolkata there are sidewalks – another rare sight in Indian cities, which you can actually walk comfortably. These sidewalks are quite wide and there are families living on those sidewalks in little tents. This is certainly not what a European would call a home, but it is better than sleeping on a different doorstep every night. And thanks to Mother Teresa, there is a lot of NGO-activity in the city. And it is visible. When we walked down Sutter Street – a famous traveller’s hangout – we saw a group of children sitting on a blanket on the sidewalk learning how to read and write with blackboards on their laps. For me, Kolkata was a sign that NGO-work does good and that it can change the look and feel of a whole city, that is famous all over the world for its poverty. And the dirt that is also part of this typical image? Let me tell you, most of India is worse! There are little piles of rubbish in some corners, but not huge rubbish dumps everywhere – like in Delhi. Maybe the Delhites should have a closer look at their city!

Another thing Kolkata is known for are Rikshaws pulled by men. All over India these have been replaced by bicycle or autorikshaws. Not so in Kolkata. The barefoot-men trotting in front a two-wheeled Rikshaw, sometimes pulling a whole well-fed Indian family, are just as included in the image of the city as the yellow cabs. Public transport in the city is surprisingly good: There is a metro, the cabs, busses and even a very old-fashioned tram (my guess is that the tram has seen World War 2).

All in all: Kolkata is definitely worth a trip! You will be positively surprised by the atmosphere and look of the city. And it feels a bit like time travel about 60 years back.

As we do not have an Indian family to feast with, we have decided to make a trip to Amritsar. Amritsar is a holy city for Sikhs and is home to the famous Golden Temple. At Diwali-night, we (a group of 5 foreigners) set off to see the fireworks at the temple. Apparently a splendid sight! Unfortunately the temple was so crowded, that I was the only one who could see one corner of the temple and the fireworks of the right-hand side. I was sandwiched between approximately 200 Indian men on a space of maybe 20 m². My friends left the viewing-platform pretty soon. One reason for this was that one of my fellow travelers got ‘dry-humped’ by a tiny excited-looking Indian. After she left, this was to be my fate. I must admit, it spoiled the beauty of the fireworks and the sight of the Golden Temple considerably. But as I was subject to stares, it was also easy for me to move through the crowd and I managed to find a good spot, where I could actually see the whole temple and about 80 per cent of the fireworks. It was indeed worth it, although the masses of worshippers crowding around me did not let space for festive feeling.

Another sight that Amritsar is famous for is the Waga-border, the border to Pakistan. At this border an extremely interesting closing ceremony can be witnessed every night for sunset. Both sides of the border lower their flags and lock the gates. Before that, the crowds on each side of the fence start shouting and proudly presenting their corresponding country’s flag mockingly to the neighbors. I could not notice any hostility, only incredible pride of being on the ‘right’ side of the fence. I would have loved to witness this procedure from the Pakistani end, but unfortunately Pakistan is not so open to granting visiting-visa to travelers on short notice.

India Zindabad – Pakistan Zindabad!

Then the drama happened: A booming sound disturbed the peaceful silence of this morning, followed by a ball-shaped flash light so strong that lit up my room. Soon after this a big group of crows gathered on the electricity line and started cawing for their grilled friend. Until my flat mate, untouched by the misery of the animals, banged the balcony door to quiet the mourning birds.

Science does not allow birds to die of electric shocks when sitting on electricity lines. It is not possible. But whichever fate (or grounding element) caused this bird to die today, may it rest in peace – rather in a toasted piece.

Happy Halloween!

India: this sub-continent has a lot to offer, has centuries of history, various religions, famous cuisine and still the fact most people know about India is that cows are holy. The first thing that strikes every traveller who arrives in India is that traffic, people and animals are everywhere. Animals that in most countries would live in enclosed areas and usually eat plants.

Not so in India: pigs and cows process the rubbish that is plentiful on the streets. This is definitely not the treatment I had expected for holy cows. You are not allowed to eat them, but instead of peacefully grazing cows one finds thin skeleton creatures roaming the crowded streets of any major city. They live off pizza-boxes, plastic bags and sometimes rotten vegetables. There are Indians who feed these holy cows and ignore the dirty begging children that roam the streets just like animals.

Some cows are still holy. They mean milk and wealth for farmers who more and more are being pushed into the desert by modern office buildings and glass skyscrapers that appear in the satellite cities around New Delhi. These cows now wander the streets of these modern cyber cities. Their horns are painted, they wear colorful necklaces and some time ago, they probably lived in a village that was slowly turned into a buzzing city seemingly overnight. These cows still have their purpose, but they are being pushed into city life to which they seem to adapt in a bizzare way. They doze off during the day in the shade of a highway-bridge. They cross 3-lane streets and traffic stops to let them pass – cows are holy after all. And most of them do belong to someone. Their calves are being born in the parking lot of a glittering mall. And nobody pays attention.

I do not know what makes people think that this is a life a holy creature deserves. I think that this is a life no creature deserves. But this is India! Many people have tried to understand it, many have tried to analyze it. After spending months here I have not come any closer to understanding what is happening around me every day. I never will come close to understanding this. But I have understood one thing: this is the way it is. And in India, every being manages its life. Even if that means living under a highway bridge and eating Pizza Hut cartons.