Above: the streets of Siliguri at night, and the inside of Siliguri's temple.
Our journey from the mountains of northern India to the country's southern shores required two stops: in Siliguri and Delhi. Both cities were teeming with people celebrating the Durga Puja holidays that commemorate the victory of the mother goddess over the nastiest of demons. The crows added to the Indian cities' already chaotic natures.
In Siliguri, we stood in line along with the Hindu pilgrims waiting to enter the temple to worship the goddess. We were swept in along with the crowd, among bright lights and more bugs than we have ever seen in one place. The colors of the temple were vibrant and rich, much less subdued than those of Italy's churches.
We made the mistake of riding the metro in Delhi on one of the festival's biggest nights. Added security meant that the station was equipped with metal detectors, but because in India there is no practice of queuing up, getting through the detectors was an exercise in embracing chaos. We found ourselves in the middle of what can only be described as a mob of men trying to shove their way violently into the metro. There was a separate women's entry because the crowd was so rough, but Simona did not get into it. We tried our best to push, shove, and elbow our way just as everybody else was doing, but we are novices, and we found ourselves nearly trampled. It was quite an experience.
We also got to visit Delhi's bustling backalley markets, which are mazelike and sell absolutely everything. Simona practiced her bargaining skills and secured a dozen silver colored bangles for a dollar, probably twice what a local would pay but at least one tenth of what they would sell for at home.
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