Setting up the scavenger hunt…

April 6, 2010

“So you are sure you want to do this to him? I’m not trying to change your mind; I just want you to know the risks. People die from the heat in India.”

Niharika was trying to reason with me, though also acknowledging a stubbornness we share. I had been planning this welcome for Atish since before I left Seattle and the 44C / 110F weather wasn’t going to stop me. It was the morning we were headed out to set everything up, the initial steps had already been taken. I appreciated Niharika’s concern for Atish and listened respectfully, but my decision was made, Atish’s first day in India would be spent searching the city for letters to eventually find me.

Allow me to explain my idea and reasoning… As I was preparing for my trip Atish and I would often discuss how exciting his arrival in India and traveling together would be. I tried to imagine that first day of stepping onto the street in Delhi with him and watching his initial impressions of India. But I knew that I would be too excited, wanting to show him everything and tell him everything I knew about Indian society and life. Ideally, a proper first experience in India is by yourself, without a guide, to allow your own eyes, ears, mouth and mind to make its own opinions about the diverse sensory overload that invariably occurs. I didn’t want Atish to initially see India through my eyes but I also couldn’t imagine leaving him on his own the day after he had arrived, our first day together after 3 months. And so the idea of setting up a scavenger hunt evolved. I wasn’t sure it would work, but I did know that if it could work India would be one of the only places that would see it through.

The idea was to leave letters for Atish with directions to the next one, starting at the hotel room. Each letter would be left with a street vendor or shop keeper that would be promised an NRI (non-resident Indian) would be arriving the next day to claim the letter in exchange for a tip of 100 rupees. The idea was romantic but the reality was risky. It’s easy to get ripped off in Delhi and it’s easier to get heat-stroke. Atish would be arriving from cold Seattle weather, he would be jet-lagged, and unfamiliar with Delhi. He would be spending hours outside in the sun and heat, did I want to risk heat-stroke on his first day? I came to the conclusion that there were enough precautions that could be taken, I would fully inform him of the risks, he would take auto-rickshaws between locations, and if something went wrong he could always just call me. I wanted to go through with it.

Niharika and I decided on 4 locations: A street vendor somewhere near the main “Jama Mosjid” mosque, tourist bazaar Pahar Ganj, a popular Hindu temple, and the classic India Gate. In order to set up the route we would have to go backwards, leaving each note with its handler. I would meet Atish at India Gate so our first stop was the temple. We chose the main Hanuman Temple of Delhi near Connaught Place (CP). I sat with Niharika on a bench to write the last letter Atish would find. It only said “India Gate.” Niharika sketched a rendition of India Gate on the letter. The simple act of writing and sketching in front of the temple drew the attention of many men and children, we were eager find our letter handler and move on. The temple was surrounded by beggars lining the ground near the entrance way, Prasad and flower vendors, and mendi artists.

We chose a vendor who looked kind to approach but quickly found out he wouldn’t be there tomorrow, Wednesday. Neither would the next vendor we approached. We tried a flower vendor who was very sweet. Niharika explained that Atish was coming to India for the first time. He was an Indian from America and we wanted to make sure his first experience was enjoyable so we were setting up places for him to go. It was important he get the letter. He said he would be there tomorrow and would happily give the letter to Atish. He also said on his own accord that he would make sure to send Atish into the temple with some flowers to offer Lord Hanuman. He placed the letter in his money box, we thanked him and left for our next destination.

I had never been to Pahar Ganj and I probably won’t go back. It is an area near the New Delhi railway station where most foreigners find budget accommodation and as a result the main street is filled with shops selling crafts and souvenirs for tourists and plenty of pushy touts trying to get your business constantly. Niharika and I pushed forward through them all to reach a place for lunch, Sam’s Café. There on the rooftop I wrote the letter that would direct Atish to Hanuman Mandir. I didn’t want to be too direct so I told him to go to the popular temple near CP that was dedicated to the god that helped Ram rescue Sita. It was a blatantly clear clue but I wanted to at least not make it too easy by writing Hanuman’s name. I wrote that he would find a flower vendor across from the entrance with his letter. Niharika pointed out that there are numerous Hanuman Mandirs in Delhi and numerous flower vendors at each mandir, how would he find the right one? I didn’t have an answer for that. The purpose of the scavenger hunt was not only to see the sights but to also encounter the challenges of getting around the city on his own, surely he’d manage… Niharika rolled her eyes, “As you wish,” she replied.

We chose a music shop directly across from Sam’s Café to leave the letter. Entering the shop Niharika did all the talking in Hindi to the shop owner. After she gave him the letter she told me that he wasn’t happy about the whole thing. He said that tourists were always asking for things, not respecting their time, but he would take the letter because she had asked him nicely in Hindi. I was apprehensive that he was so negative about the idea. And I was surprised to hear that he had encountered similar requests. Really? Were there other foreigners setting up scavenger hunts for their friends in Delhi?

Next was Jama Mosjid. We spent some nice time enjoying the peaceful atmosphere of the mosque and then found a sweets vendor across from one of the 3 entrances to the mosque. He was also a gracious letter handler. He said he didn’t understand what we were doing but he would happily hold the letter until Atish would arrive. The letter contained directions to the music shop and directions to have lunch at Sam’s Café before continuing.

Pleased with our success we headed back to home in Malviya Nagar. Niharika was instrumental to setting the whole thing up, it wouldn’t have been possible with her excellent communication / translation skills. I still had to pack up my bag and write the last/first letter for Atish that would be left at the hotel room. But the hardest part was yet to come. How would I leave Atish alone to find the first letter?