Taj India…mmm…Taj India!!!

Sorry for the Simpsons reference (too soon?) and the fact that this is a blog post I composed on the drive back from my trip to Agra last Sunday.

So I think I just saw some type of mini riot just outside of Agra.

A group of students from the Institute organized a weekend trip to see some of the amazing stuff around Agra and I managed to tag along. I’m really glad that I did even though it’s been exhausting and expensive…Hindustani-expensive, not Amriki-expensive. Our hotel rooms for 18 people for two nights came to about seventy dollars.

The drive out here was an adventure. The highways actually have helpful signs every now and then letting you know what cities you’re driving toward and how far away they are. Unfortunately, when said highways hit towns they just kind of stop being highways and become main drags, prone to roadblocks and buffalo herding.

We got to Fahtepur Sikri, a smaller town next to Agra, late on Friday night and everyone passed out immediately. The next morning we had planned to get up early and be off to the Taj Mahal by sunrise. The hotel employees warned us that the Taj doesn’t open until 9, but I’m starting to think that that’s just what they say so they don’t have to serve breakfast early. “Koi baat naheen.” No problem. We all needed a good night’s sleep anyway.

Saturday morning we didn’t get out until almost ten and didn’t get to the Taj until an hour later. My opinion on the Taj Mahal: it’s both amazing and kind of disappointing. Its beauty is undeniable, but it’s image is so ubiquitous that I almost felt like I had seen it before. The inside, where photography isn’t permitted is something one has to see. (Update: I looked it up and there are some pictures of the inside that don’t really do it justice. Just go see it.) The marble is translucent and the guides inside will show you with a flashlight and then hint that a tip is in order.

The best argument I can make for visiting the Taj is the fact that it’s so close to several other amazing sites of Mughal architecture. The Agra Fort rivals the Red Fort in Delhi and Akbar’s Tomb is another thing entirely. The tomb is a little bit outside the tourist belt and consequently less maddening. The fee to get in is cheap, too. There were lovely grounds inside with shaded seating from which one can enjoy watching peacocks and some type of deer frolic. The trees were full of green parrots and songbirds. The highlight for me was taking pictures of monkeys outside the Tomb and then paying the guy that has tamed them for some food that they would eat out of my hand.

A day in Agra is doubly exhausting because, being a tourist center, all of its citizens appear to be engaged in some type of hustle to separate you from your money. If you go, anyone who strikes up a conversation with you A) loves America B) thinks you are a nice man/woman and C) comes from a village with amazing handicrafts. Everyone across the region is selling exactly the same crap and something about it makes me think factories are involved; but at the end of the day I really had to admire the Glengarry Glen-Taj—Mahal spirit permeating the city.

We ate dinner at a bizarre multi-ethnic buffet restaurant that had a sign at the entrance advertising tomorrow’s “Kitty Party.” I’m not sure if that was a mis-spelling or truth in advertising. Don’t think I want to know, really.

Today we woke up earlier and walked to the Fahtepur Sikri site right next to our hotel. It was an amazing place but not as well-maintained as the ones in Agra-proper and chock-full of the high-pressure-sales-wallahs. I ended up buying two trinkets for a decent price and tried to just give money to some kids, but they demanded that I take some low-grade postcards in return. (Spoiler alert: I now have postcards!) I decided to walk back to the hotel, our rendezvous spot, rather than get bombarded with handicrafts; thereby missing an entire section of the site. One of the kids, Salim, walked back with me. We paused right outside the hotel to talk and look around for my school chums. I saw the hotel proprietor walking up and was about to ask if he’d seen any of the others when he swatted Salim extremely hard with an open hand in the back of the head. It was clear that Salim has grown accustomed to a certain amount of head-slapping because he neither blinked nor ran away. It took another slap to the head before he ambled off. I neglected to mention that the only people not trying to sell you stuff are the cops and business owners who try to separate westerners from nuisances with varying degrees of ruthlessness.

(OMG. As I’m writing this our driver is about 6 inches off the back bumper of the car in front of us as we are driving at 90 kmh.)

When I heard that there was another part of the Fahtepur Sikri complex I decided that I was touristed-out and would rather stay out of the sun and relax before the drive back.

Then, just now, we got into a traffic jam. We could see police cars at the front of it and assumed that there was some kind of accident. In our trips between Agra and our hotel I’d seen the same abandoned, banged up Land Cruiser on the side of the road. It looked like it had been there a while so I was beginning to wonder how long it would take to clear the road when I saw a huge mob of people mobbed across both sides of the highway. Great, I thought, they’ve enlisted vast amounts of manpower to deal with this situation. Turns out it was a protest or strike about something. There was a big picture of Uttar Pradesh Governor Mayawati so they were either for or against her. She’s a pretty unpopular figure in Lucknow; I’m assuming the protest was against her. Mayawati is a very important political figure and one of the most successful low-caste politicians in India. She rose to power on a populist platform but has turned out to be crooked by local standards, which is saying something. While families live on sidewalks and naked babies frolic next to open sewers she’s building a horrific monument to herself. When I say monument I don’t mean a little plaque or something. Imagine if the governor of your state built a mini-Washington Mall in his or her own honor.

(Update: as of today Mrs. Mayawati is expected to be prosecuted for corruption in the near future. This country deserves to be governed well.)

The rest of the ride back was pretty intense. I think our driver had a hot date or something. I was happy to get home… But when I got home my landlady (Aunties, we call them) had moved another boarder into our living space. He was very nice, but the fact that our already-cramped quarters were getting cramped-er without any input from me didn’t sit well. My friend had mentioned the very nice, air-conditioned room with good plumbing available where he lives so I jumped at the chance. I’ll tell more about the new place soon.

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