India
Part 9 – Agra and the Taj Mahal

I’m going to pick up as if there hasn’t been a 3 month hiatus.

I’m not a complainer; optimism makes me happy. So I tell this next little bit of travel brilliance for sheer comedic value, which, at the time, was completely lost on us.

We bought our bus ticket the night before from Hari Om Travel in Jaipur (never, never, never, never, never, please never go there). Naturally we purchased deluxe tickets for a bus leaving at 6:30 AM.

At 7:30 the next morning the city bus to which we had been directed after showing around our tickets rumbled out of Jaipur with us on it. Our fellow friendly Indians joined us in forced laughter as we explained how we had paid double the price for our ordinary bus ticket to Agra. And, great Brahma’s bull! My unshuttable window from the previous bus had been reincarnated directly beside my assigned seat. Luckily we paid extra to have our bags on board and so with 3 shirts, 2 pants, coat, and knit hat bundled on me, we rumbled on to Agra. We merrily bumped along until a grapefruit-sized stone inexplicably flew through the rear window, shattering shards of glass over everyone. After a short stop to completely knock the glass out of the rear window, we again, somewhat less merrily, continued until reaching Agra to see the famed Taj Mahal.

So, was it worth it?

Take a peek (I mean look at the pictures, they're everywhere).

I’ve been a few places, but after stepping through the portals to see the Taj Mahal my breath caught in my throat. It is the most beautiful piece of architecture I have ever seen. And I say that without equivocation, remorse, shame, or desire that some girl will find me sensitive and end my life of crushing loneliness and interminable yearning.

Quick note for future Taj Mahalers: do not waste your time waiting at the front gate if the line is long. You could be waiting over an hour there to get in. Head to your right from the front gate along the garden wall until you reach the first narrow road you can turn left. Follow that and you will eventually take another left at the next narrow road which will be the side entrance to the Taj Mahal. No wait, same admittance. One tout offered to take us there for $20/person. We eventually talked some guy into getting us there for about $1.50 for the three of us.

The whole of the Taj Mahal looks like it’s carved of finely-chiseled white marble, much like I do with my shirt off. It looks like that because it is. Over 12000 tons of marble was used in the dome alone. The sheer size of the Taj Mahal is mind boggling. I never expected it to be so huge. The plinth the Taj Mahal stands on is 300 square meters alone. Walking inside the structure we viewed the tombs where Shah Jahan’s 3rd wife lies beneath the 44 meter high dome, buried some 350 years ago. There’s no artificial lighting so it’s dim and the caretakers will take small flashlights and press them against the rubies and emeralds embedded in flowering designs in the marble to show how the light reflects and illuminates the whole flower in the dark (just go and see it, you’ll understand what I mean). It seems our caretaker only wanted to do it for us though as he shooed away the Indians that came to see as well. Why? Well the outstretched hand at the end of the 2 minute lightshow explained why.

Besides the Taj Mahal itself there are two red buildings to either side, one is a mosque, and then a couple of gateways, each beautiful alone.

As dusk fell, the dome and minarets turned from the dazzling white of the afternoon to fiery gold, to luminescent sandstone, and then a glowing blue. We left in the same awestruck mood as we entered.

Truly fantastic.

This next installment will finally end the India trip. After which I will talk about Nepal, then Bahrain. Then hopefully my trip to Europe, look for that in about 2012.

India
Part one: Bombay

I have several Indian friends; I mean I’m an engineer after all. They don’t seem so terribly different than me; we share many of the same tastes and enjoy the same activities. Hanging out with them is little different than being with my American or Canadian friends. Therefore, it’s hard to believe that they came from a place…like…India.

India is an assault on the senses. I have never visited a place that is such a bewildering juxtaposition of rich and poor, excess and extreme want. Wary acceptance between religions does not translate to acceptance within the religion, especially concerning the caste system; the beauty of their religions and culture are marred by the prejudices embedded in those practices.

I have never had such difficulty getting myself between destinations, nor of trusting those that I hire to get me there. However, despite everything India is one of the most thrilling destinations on earth, with some of the most throat-catching sights these two eyes have beheld, a people industrious and motivated, and a veritable Willy-Wonka-factory-like romp through culinary delights.

I was accompanied by my good friends Brian and Steve. Our adventure began before we even landed. We flew from Bahrain into Mumbai (Bombay) on Gulf Air. With us on the plane were a great number of devotees returning from the Hajj pilgrimage to Mecca. Some large families, but mainly men with a wife on each side, most of whom were entirely covered. An interesting thing to note about our fellow travelers is that they seemed to harbor an impressive lack of respect for airline personnel. Gulf Air employs “Sky Nannies” who provide resources for mother and child and ensure that the entire family can sit together. This necessitates asking people to move. Brian and I quickly put away our books as we realized that the entertainment value provided from this endeavor was far more satisfying. After moving a husband and wife to a seat, the husband would generally stand up and walk to another empty seat that the Sky Nanny was trying to clear, the wife would then move to another seat nearby. When asked to move, the wife would not answer and simply gesture or look to her husband sitting nearby, the husband, when questioned, would ignore the Sky Nanny.

The best part of the show was when we landed. Immediately upon touchdown, large groups of people unbuckled, stood up, and began getting their bags. An announcement: “please stay in your seat with the seatbelt fastened” did absolutely nothing. The flight attendant then unbuckled, ran to the unpacking group to yell at them to take their seat. About 10 of the 12 would, with the other two kind of warily squatting over their seat. As soon as the flight attendant returned to his seat, 14 people would stand up and reach for their bags again. Another announcement, another run back to the group and the same result. Three times he got up to to yell in about 3 minutes. Finally, “SIT DOWN!!!” was screamed over the PA to which approximately half the group listened. I was very pleased that we were not charged extra for the show.

Here we are at the baggage carrousel. Brian and I received our bag, then 45 minutes later Steve received his. In the meantime, we watched large groups of pilgrims gathering jugs of holy water brought from Mecca.

We were met at the airport by our good friend Jaideep and his mother. For the next hour, we waded through Bombay morning traffic in an effort to get to our hotel. Countless thanks go out to jaideep, his mom, and Jaideep’s fiancée Shelu for assisting us in every respect while in Bombay.

Breakfast that morning was served up in the Radio Club that Jaideep haunts in Colaba. Thus began my love affair of Indian food in India. A sweet affair that ended bitterly 2 weeks later in Delhi with food poisoning induced vomit and diarrhea. But oh, while it lasted, mmmmm.

Our first real experience with India was, appropriately, at the Gateway to India where the British made their final exit from Bombay after Indian independence.

It’s under construction.

After a delightful lunch at Gaylord’s we enjoyed paan: an after meal digestive. Paan tastes like India smells. Seriously, take all the spice smells like cardamom and anise, mixed with the rosy scent of the temples, combined with wafts of coconut and incense, the sickening sweetness of all Indian candy, and a healthy dose of the cowpies that are on every road and path and you’ll get the taste of paan. Here is Steve enjoying paan.

It’s made with approximately 20 ingredients mixed together with the bare finger of some dude sitting on a street corner.

Mmmm

Crawford Market is a huge, exciting market that specializes in everything, but has an especially commendable section of flowers for use in the many hindu temples.

At least they’re honest

While there, we visited a temple to Hanuman, the Hindu monkey god. As I’ve said before, I love visiting temples and India is a temple-visitors dream. Jaideep and his mom were kind enough to show us the meaning of all the rituals and offerings. I’m constantly impressed by such devotion, and India’s devotees are among the most fervent I’ve seen. Throngs attend the more popular temples such at the Mahalakshmi temple where stern faced guards are employed with whistles and batons to ensure that attendees stay in the proper line, don’t linger too long at the front of the shrine, and make a timely exit to keep the incessant stream moving.

That evening, we attended the arati at the local temple in Colaba, which is when the gods in the temple are put to bed. It is a LOUD affair. The bell is rung continuously, horns are blown, and songs are chanted for about half an hour as the priest prepares the gods for bed. With 5 kids, it actually wasn’t too different than bedtime growing up in the Spears household. Afterward we were given a dot (bindi) on our forehead and a fragrant flower necklace. It was like arriving in Hawaii…with a dot on your forehead.

More to come, don’t worry!