11. Saving the best for last: the Taj Mahal

We visited the Taj Mahal on our second to last day in India and it was every bit as marvelous as it was purported to be. It was built between 1631 to 1653 by the Emperor Shah Jahan (and 20,000 workers) as a memorial to his second wife, Mumtaz, who died giving birth to their 14th child. Not long after it was finished, Shah Jahan was overthrown by his son and imprisoned in the Agra Fort where he could only gaze upon his creation from afar. He is buried in the Taj alongside his wife. Rumor has it that Shah Jahan had plans to build a mirror-image Taj of black marble on the opposite river bank and that’s why he was thrown in prison –the Mughal empire couldn’t afford his exorbitant spending. I am certainly glad for his megalomania several hundred years later as is the Indian government, I’m sure!

The Taj sits on the river bank at an angle so that when you walk towards it, it looks like it’s floating in the clouds and the surrounding gardens and reflecting pools are its anchor. More than just the size of the teardrop dome and perfect symmetry of the minarets (although they do lean in towards each other) the white marble is stunning, with gorgeous inlaid marble and semi-precious stones depicting flowers and Arabic quotations from the Quran.
As evidenced by our pictures, it possible to take shots of the Taj with very few people in the foreground because of size of the gardens and the many raised areas along the reflecting pools. There were a lot of people there but not so many that it felt crowded. It is really very peaceful and even more serene on the riverside of the dome. (Although there isn’t much of view from that direction …just a dried-up riverbed.)

This was the only place in India where we saw or heard any Americans, as well as people from all over the world, of course. It is truly a marvel to behold. I won't say any more because Peter's pictures say it all.

10. The grand finale: Agra and the Taj Mahal

Our final three days in India were spent at the home of Vishnu and Arati Lall, family of friends back in Minnesota. After 10 days at hotels, it was a welcome treat to stay with this gracious and generous family. Peter and I had the upstairs apartment of the Lall’s son and Daughter-in-law, who were out of town. Vishnu is a rare jewelry and antiquities dealer who spent 20 years in New York City running the family business in the U.S. before moving back to India to work with his brothers in Agra. He has a gallery in the back of the family compound and his worldwide clientele has included Egyptian royalty, Heads of State, Mick Jaggar and Jackie Onassis.

Our first evening there, a group of women spiritual seekers stopped by for a drink and to see the gallery. These women were friends of friends so Vishnu and Arati did not know them but we all had a good discussion with the international group: three from India, one from New York (definitely upper eastside with the preposterous first name of Fluffy!) and one from Germany by way of Kazakhstan. They had been touring spiritual sites in India as a part of a Saint Germain “I AM” study group and have traveled with each other to Saint Germain meetings throughout the world. Fluffy told us she loves India and comes over often… I wonder how she reconciles the extreme poverty with her own life situation… the poverty is always there like the elephant in the room but not addressed directly. The German woman made the comment that, “ yes, there is poverty but the women and children are all so beautiful” …and malnourished and illiterate too.

The Lalls have many servants, at least five by my count but more seemed to appear off and on, and they are at your every beck and call, which takes some time to get used to. They kindly lent us one of their drivers to take us to the Taj Mahal the next morning and he waited for us at both the Taj and the Agra fort. Now that I have read the White Tiger I wonder how similar he was to the main character in the book. The Lalls said their servants are all from rural areas and that they are very grateful to have this work with good food to eat and a place to live. And I can understand why the Lalls would move back to India even though their children were born and raised in the U.S. Vishnu inherited the family home and he works with his brothers and his son in the family business. They can live very well in India and after living in Queens, the noise, congestion and traffic right outside their beautiful compound might not be so bothersome.
On our last morning in India and before we left for Delhi, Arati took us to a shopping mall to buy things in a place unencumbered by touts and peddlers. It was like a mall in the U.S., with many big chain stores (and dark store fronts) and practically no one there. There is a security checkpoint at the entrance and Indians who looked like they don’t earn more than $2 a day were definitely not welcome. At the few shops that were open we found beautiful, well-made reasonably-priced clothes…if only we had had more time!
We had wonderful food and conversation with the Lalls and at the end of our stay, Vishnu asked us to write in his guest book. We signed on the same page as Tim Pawlenty, Minnesota Governor, who had come over on a trade mission with Vishnu’s brother-in-law Ghopal Khanna. I may not agree with his politics but us Minnesotans need to show solidarity when we venture out into the world.

Next up: the magnificent Taj Mahal.

9. Trust me I'm a naturalist

Tuesday February 3, 2009 (day 11 in India) With my newly cemented tooth in place and our tourist duties in Jaipur satisfied, we head out the next morning for Agra, home of the Taj Mahal. On the way we want to stop at the Keoladeo Ghana National Park, a migratory bird sanctuary about 50 miles outside of Agra. Peter and I have visions of a nice quiet walk in the woods away from traffic noise and peddlers but that dissipates as we reach the entrance and are besieged by men who want to be our guides and a confusing array of charges to enter the park. Not really a national park by U.S. standards, Keoladeo Ghana is about the size of a county park in Minnesota and was a Maharajah’s hunting ground, which has had water diverted from a nearby irrigation canal to create lakes. Migrating birds from Nepal, Russia and China nest there during the winter and we did see many different species of birds that we wouldn’t see here.

We are told that we must have a guide and our “Naturalist” is a pleasant fellow named Sharma (pictured) who shows us his official guide card (they all have them) and we head off on foot after insisting that we don’t want a rickshaw to transport us. We are so looking forward to actually walking rather than sitting in a car for endless hours! Peter takes pictures of birds, deer and monkeys and I listen as our guide points out the birds (memorized from the brochure in his hand with a few variations such as calling parrots “green pigeons”) as we walk along the narrow paths between the marshes. Peter runs through two battery packs taking pictures and we still haven’t seen the pythons, which we are told sunbathe outside of their dens in the winter.

We head to the far end of the park with a dead camera anyway because when else are we going to see pythons in the wild? …or for that matter ever want to? Our guide and a park ranger direct us to a sandy area off the road and we walk past sun-bleached bones of deer and other unfortunate beasts who were python dinner and then regurgitated. About six feet in front of us, the guide points to a bush and we can see a coiled up, very, very large snake. We are in luck as it decides at that moment to uncoil and slither back into its den underground. All 15 feet of him… good thing it wasn’t hungry!

8. Honk OK Please: traffic in India

To say we experienced a lot of traffic in India is putting it mildly. Our trip itinerary was such that we were on the go all of the time, either flying or being driven to our next destination. Before going I had no concept of how massive numbers of people got around in India… I knew the train system was extensive but that was something we were counseled not try on our short visit. In Lima Peru, commuters rely on 26,000 private micro-buses as there is no subway or light rail system so I had experienced major traffic congestion before …but nothing prepared me for Delhi or Mumbai! As I suspect is true in China, the rapid influx of car owners over the last twenty years has overtaxed India’s practically non-existent highway infrastructure. That, along with the Indian way of creatively interpreting traffic rules, made for some pretty interesting road drama. As a remnant of the British Raj, they drive on the left side of the road… sometimes. On numerous occasions while on the National Highway we would see a truck or van barreling towards us on “the wrong side of the road”. Our driver explained that the miscreant just didn’t want to drive an extra kilometer to get to the entrance to the westbound lane so they use the eastbound lane instead. Lanes are just a formality as well… a two lane portion of highway always had at least five or six vehicles across: a couple of cars, a truck, a camel or ox-driven cart, a moto-taxi and several mopeds or motorcycles, which ususally had the entire family on board (with the driver, the man, the only one with a helmet on ...hmmmm). There are signs advising drivers to stay in the lanes but no one takes any notice of them … there also signs on the backs of Moto-taxis warning that “spitting spreads TB” but that’s another story!

So what was the deal with the “Honk Ok Please” bumper stickers on the trucks? When passing another vehicle in the lane you have made for yourself, you honk to let the driver know you are passing him. Needless to say, the cacophony of honking is endless and pervasive, especially in the cities. The only time we didn’t hear traffic (even in those nice luxury hotels) was in the middle of the night. The noise pollution is only second to the air pollution, which we noticed immediately upon our arrival at the Delhi airport at midnight. Engine exhaust mixed with wood and coal smoke as well as raw sewage makes quite the olfactory cocktail!
Another interesting observation on the road in India: I could count on one hand the number of women drivers I saw. While we were travelling, females (except in the airports) were well-hidden, unless they were of a lower caste or school children. Middle and upper class men and woman don’t necessarily drive themselves, in part because driving is considered a lower caste occupation and also because it is really, really hard to drive in India, especially in the big cities. In Delhi there is no rhyme or reason to the street traffic and there are no discernable street signs or logical directions to sites. Our driver from Agra had to ask several times for directions to the restaurant, Karim’s, in old Delhi and only after circling the area several times did we find where we could walk to the location. Parking in the city is also a chore, which is why you hire a driver to wait for you.
Coming back to well-mannered Minnesotan driving was an adjustment. I can’t imagine using my horn here except in dire circumstances and heaven forbid that someone would create another, unsanctioned, lane of traffic! Unheard of --even in California or Boston!