Delhi & Agra: guest blogger part 2
Into the taxi again to visit the Agra (or Red) Fort.
Very impressive place and very big. Within the fort are
different “houses” built by successive rulers. We
looked up at the area of the fort where Shah Jahan was
imprisoned and could only see the Taj Mahal he had
built through a window facing the river.
After we walked out of the fort we went out to the lot
where the taxi was, but no taxi driver in site. For
more than 20 minutes we tried to fend off the vendors
who were literally putting things in our faces trying
to make a sale. This was the scene of my first
bartering effort and I learned some of the finer
points.
Rule Number One. Never, never let them put the
merchandise in your hand. Once in your hand, they
will do everything they can to not take it back,
keeping you engaged in the transaction.
Rule Number Two. Do not think about their hungry
wives and children at home. It is not part of the
game and you will get the very short end of the stick.
Rule Number Three. If you want the price to go lower,
shake your head and walk away. This is not for the weak at heart. How did I do? I got the price down from 1000 rs. to 200, but I still paid too much.
Another interesting thing happened during these 20
minutes or so. A boy approached us with a basket
under his arm. Sam immediately began gesturing rather
sternly for this boy to go away. I asked Sam what was
going on and he said that the boy had a snake in his
basket. He was coming up very close to us because it
was essentially an extortion game. – I won’t let my
poisonous snake out of the basket if you pay me money.
The taxi driver appeared from somewhere, finally. We
headed off towards the hotel. Stopped at McDonald’s
where Berk and Atticus rode a couple of carnival-style
rides and then had chicken sandwiches. Back to the
Oberoi and the wonderful words, “Welcome back, madam.”
When we got to the rooms, the fellows were turning
down the bed, setting out the slippers, leaving a
bucket of ice for the evening (are you getting tired
of this yet?). I couldn’t decide if I wanted to
shower in the spacious shower or bathe in the spacious
tub, so I did both:) I went out on to the balcony to
gaze at the Taj across the way. No lights on the Taj,
so off to bed. I had a choice of four kinds of
pillows (with a little card describing the attributes
of each one. It was the down pillow for the night.
We were lined up at 6 a.m. and ready to board our golf
carts for the 600 meter ride to the Taj entry. After
being dropped off at the barricade, we walked through
a gauntlet of sellers. “Hello. My name is George,
madam. Guide book? Postcards? Batteries? Memory
cards? Later? I wait for you, madam.” Oh good.
More offers of the elephant bracelets, books, etc.
“No” wasn’t terribly effective. You just had to walk
it through. Sam, the kids and I were waiting in the
entry line while Jenn was in the ticket line.
Apparently, though, Berk and I were standing in the
men’s line, which I figured out when a man was saying,
“Madam, madam!” and gesturing to the left. It wasn’t
readily apparent to me, but there was definitely a boy
line and girl, which made complete sense when we got
to the security pat down by female guards before going
inside the grounds. We were entertained in line by a large group of young Germans in lederhosen having a very good time.
We walked forward into a large courtyard and then to
the right up the steps, through the red sandstone
gateway and then THE VIEW through the archway. The
Taj Mahal is surreal because the sun is just beginning
to appear over the top of the trees and everything
looks kind of misty. I would have remained stopped in
my tracks except for the mass of people trying to get
past me and into the garden area. The Taj is set at
the north end of the gardens, built on a plinth &
backed by the river, so there is only the sky for a
backdrop. I really don’t know how to describe how
breathtakingly beautiful it is. Perfect symmetry.
Starting from the entry point to the gardens, with the
Taj off in the close distance, there is competition
for the prime picture taking locations. Professional
photographers are giving orders to their clients for
very cheesy poses while we waited somewhat patiently
for our turn. Met Emily (Michelle’s age) who was from
the states and traveling by herself. She snapped a
group shot for us. Whenever I saw a couple, with one
partner taking a picture of the other, I offered to
take a picture of the two of them. Lots of smiles and
thank yous in a variety of languages. Sweet.
Before walking up the ramp to the plinth (this is my
new favorite word), you have to remove your shoes and
stow them in cubbies. On either side of the Taj are
identical red sandstone buildings. One is a mosque
and the other is just a building. At the
building-that-was-not-a-mosque, there was a sign with
a digital sign indicating the current pollution
readings. Quite an issue here because the pollution
erodes the white marble. We walked the circumference
of the Taj marveling at the logistics of keeping the
river water from undermining the plinth, draining
rainwater, moving out sewage, etc. For example, when
you look down at the red sandstone slabs making up the
courtyard surrounding the mausoleum you see flowers
carved at intervals to drain off rainwater.
We lined up to go into the actual mausoleum. Just
outside the entry a man started standing next to me
and giving details about the architecture. Jenn said
that he wanted to be our tour guide. Sure enough, he
followed us inside still trying to establish a
guide/guidee relationship. Sam shooed him away.
Inside it is dark, of course, but as your eyes adjust
you begin to see the beautiful inlays of different
stone depicting flowers and birds. The more precious
stones have been pilfered over the years, but it is
still a wonder. The cenotaph for Mamtuz is centered
on the floor but the one for the Shah is not because
he planned to be laid to rest in a black marble Taj on
the other side of the river. But he had a little
trouble with his boys towards the end and couldn’t
fulfill this dream. Thus his house arrest in the Agra
pictures and background). The kids were beginning to
come undone at the fringes, so we headed backed
towards the exit. Jenn and I got to sit alone for a
few minutes and enjoy a few more minutes of gazing at
the Taj. Very sweet.
Out the gate and into the street. George was at my
side. “I waited for you, Madam. Now you want
pictures or book?” Sam finally bought a very nice
book of postcards – the kid was a polished salesman
and was not to be denied:)
The rest of the day was rather anti-climatic, but in a
good sort of way. Brunch in the room. Time at the
pool. Packed the bags. Painful separation from the
hotel and into the taxi for another 5 hour drive.
Into Delhi. Unsuccessful attempt to communicate with
the driver about finding a restaurant to eat out so we
just went to the airport. Ticket line. Security
line. Pat down (I think I detected a smile as the
female guard patted my stomach) and a few hours of
savoring a jelly donut and pretty awful chocolate chip
cookies (really our best choices) and reading. On the
bus and out to the tarmac. Up the stairs, into our
seats…and on cue, the washcloths and cold water. I
could hardly wait to get home to Bangalore and into my
bed. It was raining so we formed a chain to off-load
the luggage and headed to the front where (thankfully)
Shiva was there with the car. Fast forward. Washed
feet, lights out, fan on, into bed and listened to it
rain as I drifted off to sleep.
Even as I write this, I can hardly believe that I
really was in my bare feet in the Taj Mahal. It was
awesome in the true meaning of the word.
seriously in india blog
Friday, November 30, 2007
