The City of Sadness

In the evening of November 2, we continue our drive into Agra...the home of the Taj Mahal. The ride is between countryside and small cities to larger urban-type areas. The air varies from fresh country air onto wood smoke to incense and again the familiar stench of the highly populated areas. The smell must be witnessed to really 'appreciate'. It is beyond disgusting. A conglomeration of scents due to the lack to hygiene and waste removal. Filth, garbage, human and animal waste, rotting food and a plethora of other things...some only a bit annoying others vile beyond explanation. Animals, primarily cows, goats and dogs stand amongst the filth eating what they can. I am horrifically fascinated and saddened all at once. I feel deeply hurt for all of them. Then, as we drive on into the city, we pass young children in dirty clothing flying small kites on the rooftops, aglow with happiness. Many of them smile and wave when they see us, not sad, not weary.

Our motel is not elaborate by any means, but we are fine with it...(until Matt and I discover the next day that we were chewed mercilessly by small nits of some type through the night...the only bites I suffered the trip...Matt much worse than I). We have a quick supper late...as usual...and it's off to bed for a very early a.m. once again. The crickets serenade us in the back courtyard compete with the occasional call to prayer at sundown and before sunrise. Into the Tuks we pile, before dawn and off to the gates of the Taj. I am quite excited at the prospect. The reality of where I am sinks in...all of us in a long line waiting to be let inside. Monkeys sitting on the gate arch (30-40 ft high) looking down at us...probably laughing at the stupid humans up so early for what they see everyday. Everyone is restless and anxious...I look over to see a meagerly dressed man on a bicycle that stops by every stray dog he passes to give each one a small cookie or biscuit. It reminds me of what contrasts there are in this nation. Some know what really matters.

The gates open and we are allowed inside...we enter into a large courtyard and are surrounded by the red sandstone fences and gates. We finally turn to the left and there it is...we can see it through the archway. It really does take one's breath away. Fantastic. It is barely dawn and it is quite an impressive site indeed.

The crowd is not yet so terrible and we are able to wander and take shots without much waiting or disturbance. Men nearly accosting us at every turn by wanting to 'assist' us to find the best shots (all for a small fee of course). I find that annoying and am a bit abrupt....(it IS early). Plus, it IS the Taj Mahal...it is really hard not to take a decent photo. It is the perfect subject. We see a few monkeys about, chipmunks, small finches and small green parrots. It is a gorgeous morning and will be quite warm again soon.

I break away on my own and take several shots alone, it is an amazingly spiritual place. People on the temple areas either barefoot or wearing plastic booties. The entire grounds immaculate. The mausoleum is small inside compared to it's surroundings. It is peaceful just to sit outside and look at the building in contemplation. Worth the trip.

We regroup after a few hours and head to our guide's family home and have homemade breakfast on their small rooftop near the street. Kind, accomodating family again. It is very humble and I feel very grateful that those who likely have so little give us so much. The women never join us, only the men. The street continues below...horns all conversing with each other,then suddenly the ghastly sound of a dog crying in pain, perhaps struck by one of the racing cars or lorries...we look at each with bleek glances. The reality of where we are sitting a bit heavy...it is the reality that is this place.

After most of us politely eat the meal before us, we are brought to a local marble shop. The small lobby has 3 or 4 men sitting carving marble and a spry elderly man explaining the procedure to us. The men use old world means with a wheel and footpower. The work tedious and intricate. It is beautiful, they have kind faces. I wonder how much of that money from their work they actually see...I am certain very little. We are 'encouraged' to go to the back to see the fine marble and another discussion even offering drinks for free. The set up. We are not shown the more inexpensive items, only the finest for us tourists. These men know how to be encouraging and we walk out with a couple of items that are roughly about $30.
Our Tuk driver Gofar is 'ours' for the day and we aren't sure where to begin. We ride through the city with Amber, another American (a rather spoiled girl from Lousiana, used to her own way). We attempt to go to the Red Fort and are put off by the crowds and inundation of merchants. We opt for a lunch at a nearby Indian place called "Indiana". Matt attempts to encourage Gofar to come in for a drink or lunch on us. He finally says yes, and we sit in waiting to begin and realize he will not come in. It occurs to me that is likely the difference in Caste that would not allow such. As in Jaipur, Matt took a photo of snake charmers and later felt the need to pay them, Ajah simply laughed at his efforts to get money to the men...not realizing that Ajah NEVER would have himself given money to street people. It is simply not acceptable.
We end up stuck in traffic most of the afternoon and just watch the passersby that are more fascinated with us. We go across the river to get a different Taj view...Gofar reminds us not to take photos of the people, some of the poorest in the city. Assuming it is not good etiquette, not so much as them wanting money for being a subject. We walk from the Tuk and are met by a spry, chipper Japanese man elaborating on the thrill of a perfect shot. He is quite pleased. The shoreline has men in a bungalow with guns playing cards perhaps, keeping a close eye on us, 2 young lads in tattered filthy clothes, and a rather under nourished puppy.
We return to the Tuk a bit somber and are met by a young blind man, Gofar tells us he is asking for money....we are quite upset explaining that we are strongly encouraged not to do so, to discourage the prevelance of mutilation and maiming to get hand-outs. Afterwards he hounds us to stop at a shop of someone he knows, only to admit that he will get a 100ruppee commission. Matt is not too pleased at this point and we strongly urge him to take us back. It has been enough.
Evening comes and we are to go to a homestay in the city. I am apprehensive at best. The area of the city is dark and dingy as expected. The home is lovely. A kindly Sikh couple welcome us in and we sit in a small room to chat. There is another couple from Holland and another couple that comes in later from Chicago. They have posh written all over them and seem quite out of place. We chat briefly, it is time for a quick shower before dinner. We are moved to a house next door, since couples just keep coming in. We don't mind, the place to ourselves and it is gorgeous. Although the shower is not the least bit hot, since power outages are common here. I am getting used to cool/cold showers.
The food is wonderful and we have great conversation with our fellow tour mates. Nice close to a rather gutwrenching day. Matt and I even sit after dinner and have a nice chat with the elderly gentleman after dinner. He is the typical older person, remarking on increase cost of heating, food, and how all has changed over time.
We head in to rest and Matt gets to doctor up his angry insect bites before bed. A real trooper. It will be a long day on the road tomorrow and in all honesty, I am anxious to leave this city. I am thankful for the trip, but the stop here has been emotionally devastating.

Forts and Palaces...

We are all weary from travel, but excited about the day ahead. A few stops here and there and we make our way along the countryside and villages closer to Jaiper and stop over at the Amber Fort. We wind around the hillside and there it is along the hillside. Like an elaborate sand castle. Exotic and gorgeous in the midday sun. We are invited to stop in to a small temple at the roadside before our trip up to the Fort in jeeps, for a small bit of lunch. We sit under a tree on a cement slab after removing our shoes, and are given plates of a very soft thin fry bread, like a pancake accompanied by a yogurt(curd :) and a spicey, greenish, thin sauce. Eat with fingers only....(left handers trying to politely eat right handed only). It is fantastic. Thank goodness I have a small hand gel for this trip, it comes in very handy.
We seperate into covered jeeps and take the steep, rocky road to the fort. Winding through the small village...children waving...motorcyclists hoping to have their photos taken pull nearly onto the jeep's rear bumper. We arrive outside the Fort and the moment we step from the jeep we are swarmed with men and children selling everything from postcards to pens to wooden carvings. They are relentless. It is a relief to get within the Fort out of the courtyard to be free of them. They have their wares to sell, but it is too overwhelming in the heat.
It is Persian style, elaborate and beautiful...more of a palace than a fort. We wander through, enthralled. The view within and without is amazing. It is beyond anything I have ever seen. Our guide is a local man named Ajah. He is knowledgable and does all he can to let us know such. That is the beginning of our time with him...and it will try all of our patience before our visit to Jaipur concludes.
Tamar returns after a short while with a much welcome pot of Massala Chai. The first of several I will have on this trip. It is glorious...many do not enjoy it...which suits us fine...more for us! It is sweet with loads of clove, cinnamon, pepper and a multitude other spices. We stay at the Fort until nearly dark and must make our way back to Daphne on the jeeps...the salesmen are again relentless. I stand my ground...no sale today gents.
We happily reboard Daphne and wake Nik from his nap (one of many he will have along the way...:). We make our way into Jaipur City...the Pink walled city. To our left just after sundown there is a lake, (which always catches my attention due to the lack of them). They stop and we are encouraged to go to the waterside to see Jal-Mahal...the Palace on the Lake. Amongst the curious, if not obnoxious locals, are the hoards of mosquitos...needless to say, we didn't stay long. Shame.
We went into town and it never ceases to be fascinating, sad, disgusting and so many other things. There is also an incredible beauty to it. Many people wave, clasp their hands in prayer and bow to us. It's welcoming and kind. I feel intrusive at times, like I am on the outside of a prison gate, looking inside. Yet, these people know that this is their lot and accept it. A gentle Grace about them. I am thankful that I can witness it, even the bits that make me look away and the smells that make me want to retch.
After witnessing the city and desolution, we pull into our 'hotel'. The Bissau Palace Hotel. Tamar calls it quaint. Most of us call it opulent...especially after what we witnessed. It is a former palace that has a definite charm and ambiance about it. Even a warning to keep our windows closed and locked at night to avoid an abrupt crasher that would be in the shape of a monkey. We freshen-up for a bit only to hop into what would be our first of many Tuk-Tuks to go to our guide Ajah's family's home for supper. Hot damn, what a ride! It is ground level with all the madness! Matt, John (a fellow American) and I are not prepared for a ride of our lives. It is with giddy joy and laughter we happily go, like 3 school kids on a carnival ride. We never wanted it to end. That feeling would pass after 2 weeks!!
We are welcomed into Ajah's family home by his sisters and given a gorgeous homemade meal. A fellow travelor (American), Amber apparently noted a 'bug' in her food Matt tells me later. Oh well...she came to complain about MANY things during the trip, we learned...so how much of that was really tur, we may never know... Ajah continues to give us his 'verbal tour of India'..like a Hindu automaton... until we all grow tired and head back to the hotel. Where we enjoy a nice cold beer at a former palace on the porch with the crickets and somewhat tropical surroundings. A nice balmy evening...life was good.
A bit of a lie in and we are off like mad people once again. A strong coffee and breakfast and off into the City to the Palace of the Winds. We are not allowed inside and police stop the relentless traffic to get us across the street. Watched closely by 2 street snakecharmers and a maimed beggar looking to approach us. We don't stop long. Off to a 17th century observatory built by Sawai Singh. I love it there. It is brilliance and science and the sun makes me feel content....plus, it's QUIET!
A nice tour and photos then over to the City Palace. A tour of pure decadence and military weaponry. The museum holds everything from huge robes encrusted with jewels of obese kings to rooms full of any type of military weapon in use at the time. Swords and knives of all shapes and sizes. The crowd becomes intense and we all bail out. We catch an overpriced Tuk for 4 of us back to the Hotel and spend the rest of the day lounging by the back pool with drinks and conversation. There are 4 of us that just don't care to fight the crowd in town...and Nik, of course.
Matt and I venture into town, a bit later, a few blocks down to explore. It is filthy, foul and we are instantly spotted. I have come to learn to not make eye contact and just move on...Matt is far more polite than I. We have enough in that short time and are happy to retreat to our fantasy world inside the palace hotel. Cowards.
We stay at the hotel on yet another rooftop restaurant and have dinner under the stars for our last night in Jaipur. I am a bit saddened by this, but we have many days to go. Tamar has an interesting time sorting the bills out with the waiters. This proves to be a common occurance in India. She just pulls it together and deals with it as she does the entire trip. Time is passed in chatting and exchanging ideas. One of many nights of this. It is one of my favorite parts of the trip.

Fatehpur Sikri is a fort a few miles out of Agra built by the grandfather of the builder of the Taj Mahal. It is in the usual Persian style and built of sandstone. As with all, the entrance is elaborate and the buildings geometrically laid out. The courtyards are wide and large. The inner mosque had a mirage type pool in front of it with men playing traditional islamic music. Children roamed about and only asked for a photo to be taken. Most of this was accepted unless is was to chaotic, then the children were ran off. I wonder if many of them had parents? It was difficult to tell at times.
A lovely, well-preserved building with grandeur, but again, the inundation of merchants became hard to bear and took the charm away from the site. Yet, the smiles of the children who watched us with open curiosity made up for it. My heart went out to them.

First stop....Delhi.

We landed at Indira Gandhi International Airport at Delhi, early October 30th. We exited the plane and were shuffled to a small make-shift booth with 2 men with surgical masks. We presented them with forms they provided on the plane regarding Swine Flu. We had heard that if we even presented with slight symptoms or fever, we would be in quarantine. They had heat sensor cameras at customs entrance. Luckily, we weren't in the red. I was happy to get through customs without any problem. There were 'military' police throughout the place, I was a bit apprehensive. No need, they didn't seem bothered about much of anything.
To the desk to exchange dollars to rupees and off we go...(it was roughly 70 to the pound at that time or about 45 to a dollar) We step out into the main corridor and they are lined up on each side...cabbies. Some are holding signs, some offering lifts. Thank goodness ours was booked ahead. A young wisp of a man collects our bags when we see the sign and acknowledge him. A man of few words. The long corridor to exit seems to go on forever...typical airport, with the exception of beggars every so often. Young children with men at times, maimed. Very difficult to see and not engage. We know that children are frequently intentionally maimed so parents or those who abducted them can get more money. My stomach turns to think of it and combined with the sudden heat, I feel sick. We come out of the building in time and I feel I can breathe again. Nearly. The air is full of dust and it instantly sticks in my throat and eyes. It's everywhere. Most of the passerbys are men and they stare openly. Something we would have to adjust to quickly in every place we visit.
The drive from the airport seems to take hours. I am too tired and fascinated to become completely engaged in the driving. Thankfully. The roads are sparce and seem to be under some sort of construction. The men all in long sleeves and trousers. Many barefoot. The traffic is beyond reason. Cars of all sizes, partial semi-trucks decorative and adorned. Motorcycles, many with 3 and 4 passengers....tiny children on the front without helmets, women side-saddle with saris being worn. Bicycles, oxen carts, rickshaws, Tuk-Tuk's (small 3 wheeled taxis...sometimes with up to 12 people). All of these vehicles moving in and out in a type of orchestrated ramble. It works somehow. He races on...of course, there is no air conditioning...(not that I care for it...) but the horns work!! EVERYONE uses theirs...it's like it's own language. The horns never stop...day or night...and they're all driving 'hell bent for election' like granny would have said. Even with the cows, dogs, goats and people mixed in. I even see an elaborately dressed man on a fancy white horse. Most all of what I have seen looks like a warzone...trashed and dilapidated. Sad, but incredibly fascinating and exotic. Around one of last bends before we reach the hotel, I see a massive Hanuman statue(a Hindu monkey god)facing out proudly...it's an incredible site.
The motel is in a dirty corner of the city and the minute we step out, we are consumed by crowd and dust. It really is like a war zone. The inside not so bad, comfortable, a bit of Indian kitsch. I find the bed in our room and just crash...construction workers pounding above my head it seems..(as they did for most of the night we found). Earplugs would be my friends the entire trip.
We meet on the balcony to chat at 6 pm and discuss the itinerary. We have 2 guides: Nik (an English lad) and Tamar (Swiss-German lady). Nice, earthy duo. There are folks from all over. Mostly the UK. There are 2 Americans, an Aussie, a Spaniard and a couple from Norway.
We meet later to venture off to supper nearby. We walk down narrow, dirty alley ways dodging vehicles of all sorts. I am just thankful that I am not alone and most definitely with a group. The sort of alleys you see in movies...the scarey ones. We reach the place...The Crossroads Restaurant. Dark, busy and not so bad. I don't feel so brave and stay with noodles...that with one Corona and I am done.
The next morning comes early (0620) as we head up to the rooftop for a breakfast of soft porridge with curd (I grew to love curd on this trip...I think it saved me from Delhi belly many times), french toast and even fried cornflakes with peas...(I don't recommend them...)
Time to board Daphne our tour truck. She is a medium sized rig, orange, equipped with tables, refridgerator and stereo....not as elaborate as she sounds. The name grew to fit her quite well...she was a temperamental gal...much to our dismay. She had to rest up a few hours into the drive and was quite hot and bothered. Oh well...another opportunity for a water refill and squat toilet. I was in India...I wasn't bothered.
The roadside stops always interesting. It was nothing to attract a crowd of 20-30 when we were at the roadside...unfortunetly, it was usually when we were looking for a place to pee. I kept forgetting where I was, and that to them is as common as looking at your watch. We get quite spoiled as westerners...the things we take for granted. Like running water and toilet paper. In places...these ARE luxuries.
It's on to The Amber Fort and Jaipur...