Chandni Chowk: Part I

Yesterday I went touristing in Chandni Chowk, which is described in my guidebook as “the madcap Chandni Chowk…a wide avenue thronged by crowds, hawkers and rickshaws.” I was pretty excited to go because one of my favorite things about India are the crazy street scenes and markets which remind me that, no Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore.  In that respect, Chandni Chowk did not disappoint. 

(smaller street off of Chandni Chowk)

 

The street called Chandni Chowk itself is as my guidebook described it—a fairly wide avenue which jumbles together spice sellers,  barbers, beggars, cloth merchants, tourists, stray dogs, cars, goats, rickshaws, etc. Here’s how you should picture a wide avenue in Delhi; on the furthest edges are the shops themselves which are usually small three-sided kiosks with their wares prominently on display. In front of the shops are the stationary street-hawkers who have spread their goods on the ground (well, usually on a cloth on the ground).  These stationary street hawkers can also provide services and there were quite a number of barbers who were just sitting on the ground in front of (or behind—depending on whether a shave or a haircut was being given) their client.

(a mid-ranger barber--not sitting on the ground, but not in a kiosk either)

(Note: the Delhi sidewalks, to the extent they exist, tend to be fairly broken up and you have to be very careful not to step into an uncovered manhole.  Seriously, the sidewalks are often built over the gutters so, if you’re walking along and not paying attention it would pretty easy to fall a couple feet down into this disgusting, stagnant water. I’m pretty sure this is why must Indians don’t walk on sidewalks even when they are provided, but rather on the edges of the road. )

Just to the interior of the stationary hawkers are the cart vendors. These tend to be guys selling fruits, vegetables or some kind of street food.  And just to their inside would be the pedestrians, walking on the general edges of the road, and stepping onto the sidewalks usually just to visit a particular vendor. Mostly, the vendors are men.

(Kiosks)

(Random mosque just off of Chandni Chowk)

(random upscale hotel just off of Chandni Chowk)

 The road itself is sort of a screaming racetrack with cars, autos and rickshaws (yes, these are each different sorts of vehicles) all clamoring to get ahead.  Everything that you can imagine that would be dangerous about a road is encapsulated in your average Delhi street (and Chandni Chowk is no exception), but to date I haven’t seen a single accident.  Delhites must be both the best drivers and the worst drivers in the entire world. 

So that’s Chandni Chowk the street. But Chandni Chowk the area is even more interesting, I think. Because once you turn off the major thoroughfare you get to smaller streets that pretty much market just one thing—i.e., the shoe seller’s street or the stationary street.  And you can turn off those streets into even smaller streets, which have the really local stores. And you can turn off those streets to get into even smaller alleyways and you can turn off of those alleyways to get into even smaller alleyways and so on and so forth until you find yourself wondering if you’re still on a street anymore at all or if you’ve somehow just wandered into someone’s house because all of a sudden there are half-naked children running around and veiled women giving you the stink-eye. 

The character of this web of alleyways is fascinating because in each little kiosk or street there is something super-interesting going on. This one is a paper-manufacturer, that one is a tea seller. This one is an electronic store, that one has an impromptu cricket match going on. And throughout everything—temples and tiny shrines, everywhere. I wanted to take pictures of the individual kiosks and shrines so badly, but I didn’t because the alleyways are so tiny and personal that it would have felt pretty intrusive on the people working or praying. (Plus, the one time I tried to take a picture I quite unceremoniously got a some red slimy mixture dumped on me from above. I’m not saying the two incidents were connected, but I put my camera away after that). 

However, for all of the fascinating things going on in Chandni Chowk, I have to say that it is not for a woman with a faint heart . . . read why tomorrow!