A reflection of my last year in New Delhi

Dayanand Naidoo, New Delhi

Meintjeskop Courier,  Volume III/1998

 I am inspired to write after reading the onerous stories sent in by colleagues from other missions. Of course there are other reasons for doing so as well...

I missed the cyclone in Mauritius (thankfully)! Having spent three years there. we went through our fair share of the various classes of warnings, class three being the best and most welcome. Class three allowed us to stay home and did not cause too much of an inconvenience. What my ex-boss omitted in his otherwise excellent reporting was die legend of the cyclone.

It is common knowledge (in Mauritius at least) that there has been no cyclone damage in the past 10 years. Prime Minister Jugunath has been in power all this while. The fact that cyclones stayed away from the country was an apparent indication of his political invincibility. Maybe things have now changed. I believe that it is no longer so hot for him these days. Maybe Mr van Wyk can comment on that!

So much for that! Back to reality! As I mentioned earlier there were other reasons for writing this piece; in fact only one to be honest. Today is my first anniversary in India - 15 October 1994. I remember the first day I arrived most clearly. I was very sad leaving behind the wonderful Island. And the many friends. Air Mauritius brought me to the city of Bombay. The smell of ammonia was everywhere.

The airport arrivals at Sahar leaves much to be desired. Thankfully the Department allows us to travel business class on our posting to a Mission. It at least allowed me use of the business class lounge. Good friends that I had made with the airlines also eased the suffering. Those that have travelled to this part of the world would understand this feeling of being totally lost. alienated.

The masses of pushing. shouting people are astonishing. By this time, believe me, returning to Mauritius had crossed my mind a number of times. A strong determination not to fail kept me there in the departure lounge. Being the first diplomat here was also a motivation. Think what other colleagues would have done if I had left on the first flight - back. After identifying my 24 pieces of luggage as is required. I settled down for the flight to Delhi. For the record. 20 of them were diplomatic bags containing various pieces of basics.

At this time I wish to emphasise I am neither knocking India  or the Indians, but merely trying to share my experiences with you. Experiences I am learning that are wonderful (at least when I look back).

What I must relate to you now is actually unbelievable, but true. Mardi Pather and Jacques de Vos bear testimony to this. I sat in the upper deck of that Air India plane. Looking out through the window I saw hundreds of people squatting near the river that runs alongside the airport. Being of Indian origin myself. I was utterly confused as to what they were supposedly doing. There were hundreds of people squatting side by side. I was lost. I had never seen  anything like this before. As the plane began climbing, I continued looking out of the window, hoping to find out what was happening. My curiosity was soon answered when I saw someone throw what looked like toilet paper to his neighbour. It was.

I had arrived alone, taking the good advice of Mr Riekert. New Delhi at 10hOO was a welcome sight after Bombay. The hotel where I spent six months was very nice, clean and the people were great. We were in India for the first time. We were made to feel welcome everywhere we went. We were the toast of the town. Everyone wanted to know us. It felt good.

I will not bore you with the mundane (not in this article anyway) such as traffic, driving, my visit to the Indian Government Departments, visits to prison, etc.

It is now a year that we have had representation in India. It is now a little over three months that we are in our Chancery. We are all proud of our achievements and it is a great tribute to the team effort we have all put in.

Our watering hole is called the CANGO CAVE. a name drawn during a competition we held. The Cango Cave is run by all the transferred officers and is a gift from our architect. In India, every action has a reaction. This is encompassed by a single word pronounced Bak- sh-ish: or free. Every quote, tender etc has built into it a percentage for the giver of the contract. We merely asked for and got. If we did not ask. we would not have got. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.