Here is the first in a series of short stories from my trip here in India...hope you enjoy! (Everything in these tidbits is 100% true story)
As I watched the red sandstone and white marble spires appear over the horizon, I couldn't help but think: How many different famous temples can there possibly be in this city!? But, as with everything in Delhi, this one was nothing like I expected. We drove over a cobblestone hill, though the stones had been almost buried in sand due to lack of monsoon rains. As I gathered my things, I had a "conversation" with the driver- as I stepped out of the vehicle, I prayed that had understood my instructions. I would be back soon; this looked like a fairly simple landmark. One quick lap, some pictures, then finished and on my way to lunch…or so I predicted. I popped my scarf over my sweaty forehead and was off, kurti flopping in the dusty wind. After clambering about the temple to Krishna, I wondered why the driver had suggested several hours for this stop- it seemed entirely straightforward. I descended into the air-conditioned building below the temple, and attempted to blend in- needless to say, an American girl in Indian clothes, a headscarf and sunglasses receives the same number, if not more blank stares from others around her. I met the first glares with smiles, but after some time, I quietly made my way out. Clearly, tourists don't frequent this particular Hindu temple. On the way back up the slope, I noticed a neon poster with "Vedic Expo" splashed across in neat print. Elated at the chance to see some authentic Indian artwork, I veered into what would become one of the scariest, and later, most hilarious experiences of my trip. Ticket in hand, I was directed to the waiting area. In the distance, I could hear the guides arguing over whose English was best; he should be the for my tour. I could hear the whole conversation because, not only was I the only American at the entire monument…I was the only person at all inside the expo. Seconds later a man that looked to be in his forties, about my height and with an expression of indifference called me to a huge metal door: the start of the show. The door pushed sideways and disappeared into the wall to reveal nothing but shear blackness. I turned to my guide, wondering what the problem was. Had the power gone out? He responded by shining a flashlight into the emptiness. "Stand in the light," he directed.
He responded bluntly, "The show ma'am. Stand there, back to the wall."
Needless to say, I was not appeased by this answer. I stood there, helpless and confused. I was not about to enter a pitch-black room with a middle-aged man and stand with the door closed behind us. No-sir-ee-bob. My grandmother's voice rang in my head, "stay away from perverts…" (our family joke, which, in this case, took on a more serious tone) I looked, dumbfounded, back at the tour guide, and he burst into laughter. At his point, I am about to just leave in panic when I turn and notice the judgmental glares from the other employees. At this, I steeled my nerve and descended into the room, right where his flashlight indicated. Th guide shut the door and we were both engulfed in complete darkness.
To my surprise, he knelt down and pressed a button, bringing the whole room ablaze with light and color. I suddenly felt the weight of how stupid my fears were…although my expression in the sudden glow was enough to make the guide roar with laughter.
I breathed a sigh of relief as the lights danced in front of me, illuminating carved faces of krishna. The god's voice bounced off the walls and left no space untouched. I was annoyed to find that when the show was complete, the guide walked past me and opened a second door into darkness. Being relieved but still understandably anxious, I had already turned to escape from whence we came. The guide, however, motioned for me to follow, continuing deeper into what seemed like "Vedic spelunking".
Despite all its strangeness, the various rooms with their respective light shows were incredibly educational; topics ranged from the soul to karma to yoga and even reincarnation. The final stop was by far, the most "interesting": a metaphor for krishna's guiding hand within a "maze of confusion." Th tour had been moving along systematically until this final test against confusion…and my patience.
Inside the final exhibit was a figure 8 of mirrors, complete with hexagonal-cylinders of mirrors filling in the loops. Inside these columns were two huge TV sets. The lights shown a dim gold and the screens displayed a simple PowerPoint slide of "Hare Hare Krishna Krishna". An inescapable loop of a men's choir singing these lines blasted throughout the room. I walked through the loop to find my guide, and I looked at him expectantly. He simply waited, appearing to me as if he wasn't going anywhere. After a few seconds of this staring stand-off, he signed for me to follow him round the figure 8. After some laps, we again reached the start, when he finally sighed and said, "You're supposed to become lost." I stood there, annoyed.
"I'm not lost. This is enough; I get the point."
I surveyed the small chamber and fixed my eyes longingly on the poorly-disguised door behind the guide. "There is no way out!" he said, following my gaze.
Frustrated, I ambled around once more, putting on the most ridiculous act of confusion: turning circles, seemingly awestruck at the complexity that was this bedroom-sized puzzle.
Pleased with my show, and himself apparently, he opened the door at last, washing us both in bright light from the lobby. He reached to shake my hand, but I pretended that I didn't see. Speeding out the door and leaving my water bottle behind, I never looked back. I met the driver at our pre-planned spot and we zipped away toward my next destination.
Delhi was a wonderful experience, but I just don't think my trip would have been complete without this strange event. So, I recommend that anyone in India see the Vedic expo...just make sure to bring a friend, and know what you're getting into!
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