19. Delhi with Deneth

On completion of my exhibition, I had a few days left for sightseeing. To move around in Delhi is not that simple, and the quarrels with Tuktuk drivers to avoid exorbitant fees is a daily ritual. This negotiating is a part of Indian culture, which you cannot escape, a game you simply have to play along. Together with Deneth I visited several of the places she had intended to show me. I was surprised to learn how strongly Delhi is influenced by Islamic culture. In the city's South we visited Qutb Minar, a 70 metre high minaret dating back to 1,200 A.D., and now a world heritage site. It is one of Islam's most outstanding monuments I have ever seen. I was particularly impressed by the intricate language of its engraved ornaments.

Through the Internet, the Gordian knot with the rich owner family of the Varanasi studios caught up with me again. For months I had been trying to convey that they were not honest with us. Before leaving to Delhi with Thomas, I had listed my meals meticulously, day by day, and paid all outstanding to conclude my stay. Now they were claiming that I had not paid for October, attaching a detailed statement. A few days later, an e-mail dementi arrived – I had apparently paid. However, at a closer inspection of the November statements, I realised that the amount listed for purchasing eggs would mean 738 had to be consumed by six artists, who were not even all present throughout the month. When I divided the amount listed for bananas and arrived at 1,800 pieces, I could definitely not take them serious anymore, and I was happy to have left the place –  a place I would not return to. I had to respond, since it is my concern to visit a foreign country in a responsible manner, which also includes financial responsibility. If the prices listed in this statement were to reflect the actual market rates, they would signify instant starvation for millions of people in this country. For me, honesty is an important aspect of cultural exchange; opening ourselves towards another culture requires trust and mutual interest. Had I returned straight from my studio to Switzerland, I had not taken a positive image of India with me. In Delhi however, I had many beautiful encounters that brought India close to me.

On the day before departure, I visited Ramesh at Ekta Parishad. He had been kind enough to help me find accommodation in Delhi. This organisation shows one of the facets of India that capture my interest. Ekta Parishad was founded 30 years ago by human rights activist Rajagopal and fights for land reform in India. In 2007, they organised a march of 25,000 landless farmers from all over India onto Delhi. In the spirit of Gandhi they sat in front of the parliament building and refused to return home until Sonja Gandhi gave them the assurance that they would be given land, and that the necessary laws would be enacted. 60 years after India's independence, they demanded independence for themselves.
    My absorbing conversation with Ramesh sharpened my view of India further. India is not a poor country, but it is a very unjust country. One third of the population, around 400 million, are homeless, slum dwellers, migrant workers, landless farmers. They fight for their daily survival, and one meal per day is what most of them manage to scrape together. To give these people a voice is what Ekta Parishad stands for. India's economic boom is meaningless to them, since it is the third of the population at the other end of the social scale that profit from it. India holds two records today: Among the world's ten richest persons four are Indians, and it is the country in which the highest number of children suffer from malnutrition. In daily life, on the streets, this disparity is evident, even to the tourist. As an artist I cannot change the lives of these countless people. But what I can do is to respond to the situation in my own language and to recognize it as a fact.

I spent the eve of my return with Pierre, a Swiss friend of Thomas. He showed me photographs of his second home in Uttarakhand, a fascinating region at the foot of the Himalayas. He is building, together with others, a school for Pundits, where children can learn the ancient art and wisdom of Vedic chanting and rituals. Although this tradition is a recognised world heritage, it might face extinction due to the declining number of  practicing Pundits. Pierre explained that Alka coincidentally originates from a Pundit family in Uttarakhand, and that her father can chant sections of the Veda. I find this background very fitting for her. With these images in my mind I left for the airport. Around midnight, I sat on a bench outside the airport for a while. Across the street, a few homeless slept in a tight knot, wrapped in blankets. The nights in Delhi had turned quite cold, about 10 degrees.