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.