Mary: a red fort, a white tomb, and a blonde girl

The second weekend following our return from Dharamsala, the group was itching for another adventure. We had all enjoyed a little respite in Jaipur with home cooked meals and chai three times a day, but a short break from school work and a change of scenery was definitely now in order. As we were all in the process of deciding which direction to head out in, I heard that my roommate from Richmond, Georgia, who also happens to be studying abroad in India this semester in a program in New Delhi, was planning to visit the Taj Mahal that weekend. Hoping against hope that I might get to meet up with her, I decided to accompany the group of 8 other students going to Agra. The rest of the students in the group were all newbie students – none of the other pre-session girls I was used to travelling with, so I was excited to get to know them all better!

We set out at 5 am on Saturday, taking a train to arrive in the city by around 11 that morning. It was the first time any of the new students had ridden on the train so I felt a bit like a mother duckling shepherding her chicks around as I took them to the right platform and helped us all find our seats. We arrived in Agra without any hassle and lassoed up a few auto rickshaws to take us to our hotel. Driving through the streets of Agra, I was pretty unimpressed. It was just as noisy and at least twice as dirty as Jaipur and seemed to be catering primarily to tourists, not surprisingly. But our hotel was very lovely, with a rooftop restaurant which offered my very first view of the most famous monument to love ever created – the Taj Mahal. One of India’s ancient Mogul rulers built the Taj as a memorial and tomb for his favorite wife and was later buried there himself. I must say that despite my poor first impression, the Taj made the trip to Agra completely worth it though at present I’ll save my description for a few lines down the page.

After lunch and a short rest, we headed off for an afternoon of site-seeing. Our first stop was the Red Fort, Agra’s second most popular attraction. Though not as impressive as the Mehrangarh Fort in Jodhpur in my opinion, the Red Fort is certainly a beautiful palace, with many stories of great historical interest milling about its corridors. The inner courtyard garden was my favorite part, both because it was utterly gorgeous and also because the little chipmunk-squirrels found all over India were so used to people there that they would come and eat right out of your hand! They were positively adorable creatures and left me quite smiley and giddy and seriously wishing I could bring one home. The Red Fort also offers a stunning view of the Taj from a distance, made doubly attractive by the wide river flowing alongside the two monuments.

We then left the fort and made our way towards the gleaming white beauty in the distance. After waiting in line for about 15 minutes and paying a rather exorbitant foreigners fee of 750 rupees compared to the Indian nationals fee of 20 rupees, we had finally reached the outer gate to the Taj. Despite having seen countless pictures and even catching distance glimpses from the top of my hotel and the Red Fort, nothing could have prepared me for the splendor of the striking white marble rising up before my eyes as I walked through that gate. You could palpably feel the collective admiration emanating from hundreds of people, both Indians and foreigners alike, gazing up in wonder. I felt very small and very young sitting in the shadow of its great and layered past. We spent about two hours wandering through the surrounding gardens and making a few trips inside to see the two tombs resting in the dark interior. We watched the sun set tranquilly from the top steps and only made our way out when it started to get dark. All in all, it was a truly brilliant experience and I am so glad I’ve been lucky enough to see one of the many great wonders of this world! We spent a relaxing evening at the hotel, sitting on the roof eating delicious Indian food, having a few beers and getting to know each other a little better.

The next morning we set out to explore some of the more well known bazaars around Agra, though the shopping was sub-par compared to Jaipur. We finally decided to get some lunch and I very enthusiastically suggested we head to the McDonalds in the center of town (anyone who knows me in the slightest may find this very strange and out of character but you will soon why). Walking into that small, unassuming McDonalds in Agra I made perhaps the biggest spectacle of myself I have yet to make in India. Imagine, please, two very enthusiastic, very noticeably American (one of whom is very blonde), very squealy girls rushing towards each other at full steam ahead, colliding in the middle of a very crowded restaurant and proceeding to jump up and down vigorously while hugging. Now add in happiness vibes multiplied by a million and you have the reunion of George and Marv (aka Georgia Sills and Mary Brickle). It was wonderful beyond words to see my lovely Richmond roommate Georgia! We sat and exchanged stories for about half an hour as her group finished eating and it made me so exquisitely happy to see a familiar face that I was walking on sunshine for the rest of the day. The train ride home that evening offered another chance to talk to people I was missing in my life as my family called and chatted for a good hour. Apparently at some point during the ride home that evening there was an earthquake which had an epicenter near Sikkim, which is considerably far north but apparently you could feel it all the way in Agra so I’m guessing the motion of the train kept me from noticing anything. When we finally made it back to Jaipur we were all exhausted and had to be up early the next morning to head out for a three day field trip with school so after Rama-Ji stuffed me full of food and sent me upstairs I very graciously climbed into my bed, noting with a smile how nice it felt to be able to call someplace in India home.

Amanda: Full of Wonder

Last Saturday I woke up 4:45 am, met nine friends, and boarded a small bus en route to Agra, India to visit my first world wonder: the Taj Mahal.

I love long car rides.  Really.  And despite observing maniacal driving habits evident on an Indian highway, I loved snatching a window seat and indulging in the beautiful landscapes that line Indian roads.  Fields and fields of mustard grow along India’s major highways.  The pastoral images reminded me so much of cotton fields that line SC’s interstates.

When we finally arrived at a parking lot outside the Taj, we were greeted by dozens of local businessmen offering us an array of postcards, t-shirts, snow globes, and horse whips.  Yes, horse whips.  Unfortunately for these salesmen, I had no desire or need for a horse whip.  Yet, like so many other Indian businessmen, these dudes were absolutely relentless:  “But madam, you are my first customer of the day.  I make you good deal. 500 rupees.  No?  Only 100 rupees.  Just for you.”

A “tour guide” also offered to speed us through a “2 ½ hour line” and show us around the Taj for only 200 rupees.  He said he was officially licensed by the Indian Tourism Association, but the website http://www.indiatourism.comm was printed on his name badge.  Legit?  I think not, but again, he was persistent.

Since Indians have a very different concept of personal space, men and women are forced to wait in separate lines outside of tourist attractions and places like movie theatres.  Thus, our friend Jonathan waited alone in the men’s line.  What our “tour guide” friend called the “2 ½ hour line” to get into the Taj was the easiest 20 minutes of my life.

Once we got into the Taj Mahal, though, I totally became one of those dropped-jaw Westerners Indians love to gawk at.  No shame, is all I gotta say.  The intricate floral designs crafted from natural stone on the Taj combined with its grandiose marble stature made it truly unbelievable.

A Mughal ruler built the Taj to honor his wife who died at the birth of her 14th child (what a woman, huh?).  Two large mosques neighbor the Taj on either side. I agree with the ancient lore—the Taj Mahal is truly a wonder, and a great welcome as my first weekend excursion in India.

Jonathan: The Taj Mahal!

Once again I am unsure of where to even begin, for this past week has been yet another major and amazing adventure.  Perhaps it is most important to begin with our trip to Agra, the city of the famous Taj Mahal.

Because all of us wanted to visit, because we had been warned that Agra was difficult to navigate, and because it was cheaper than taking a train or public bus, we opted to take private van.  The insanity began as soon as we parked in the lot of the Taj Mahal, when our van was surrounded by close to ten beggars, wallas selling souvenirs, ‘tour guides,’ rickshaw drivers, and a couple of camels.  In a city where tourist rupees are the main source of income, the wallas are aggressive, conniving, tricky, flat out liars, and at times mean.  Their tactics range from the ‘friendly local aide’ to openly verbally and physically hostile.  After pushing our way through the mass, we were set upon the challenge of finding our way to the Taj Mahal itself.  Shop keepers had set up signs saying “Market Shortcut” to filter tourists off the official path and into their souvenir shops which were so claustrophobic they were certainly meant to overwhelm and provide a haven for pickpockets.  Instead, we did so scouting and found the official path through a quiet ‘garden’ (read: mangy grass with some depressing looking bushes).  Upon reaching the Taj Mahal ticket office, an eerily friendly man claimed to come from the Office of Tourism (he showed his badge just one too many times to be legitimate, which by the way said he was from “IndiaTourism.comm” with two “m’s”) and said that because we were such a big group he would purchase us our tickets; all we had to do was hand him a few thousand rupee.  Suspicious, we insisted on waiting in the very short line, and soon had our tickets.  But he did not stop, and insisted on giving us our “government sponsored welcome package.”  Not only did he continue to flash his badge, but he even pointed to a nearby sign whose text was reminiscent of the poorly written emails so often filtered into our Junk folders.  It was clearly a hoax.  When I told him that we weren’t interested and would like to go to the line, he began to yell at me in an effort to embarrass me, repeating that he was an official, at which point he then informed us for the low price of just 100 rupees a head he would allow us to skip the “three hour security line” and give us a wonderful tour.  Needless to say, we left him sputtering and made it through security in just thirty minutes.

The Taj Mahal itself provides such a stark contrast to the insanity outside.  While filled with tourists, it is devoid of hawkers and therefore provides a deep calm.  The Agra air is thick with pollutants, but the compound felt clean, fresh, and quiet.  For the first time in weeks, we were able to stroll and talk, and felt a true sense of freedom that cannot be achieved when dodging motorcycles, rickshaws, trucks, cars, people, shop owners, and wallas in the world outside.  The mausoleum itself is a beautiful and impressive sight that is just as moving as one imagines from the pictures and stories we are so familiar with.  Its translucent marble literally shimmers in the morning sunlight, and it seems to float in the light haze.  Surrounded by lush green lawns, fountains, and large stone courtyards, it is a relaxing and oddly peaceful place.  More than anything we enjoyed being able to let down our guard and be relaxed.

The experience was not all restive, however.  While we are all used to having our picture taken by perfect strangers at this point, the tourists at the Taj Mahal were aggressive in their constant requests to take pictures with us.  One man even had the gall to follow us for half an hour.  We were an attraction in our own right in a way that was far more aggressive than the benign cell phone pictures taken in Jaipur, and we quickly tired of it and began shooing away on-lookers.  But this unpleasantness was only temporary, and we overall enjoyed the experience very much.

After a late lunch, some began to feel fatigued and ill.  Secondly, while this trip was a chance to see Agra, it was also a chance to spend time together and let our guard down from our very proper and formal interactions with our host families.  Taken together, we decided to call it an early day and went to the hotel as the late afternoon sun began to calm.  After a short rest, most of us decided to go walk around the winding Agra alleys and explore.  While seemingly benign, the experience was exhausting and frustrating.  Children followed us and some threw stones.  Shop owners yelled constantly.  Rickshaw drivers harassed us, and made sexist comments.  People were constantly talking to us, at first appearing friendly but soon letting their true intentions known.  If we paused our walking, we were suddenly surrounded by wallas.  At one point, we heard someone yell very loudly in Hindi as we passed a parking lot, and suddenly souvenir sellers began to run at us from every direction.  One rickshaw driver followed us for over ten minutes with a running commentary about how all the women were so beautiful and how they were breaking his heart (he later followed our rickshaw back to our hostel, a very disconcerting experience indeed).  It wore on my patience, and I began to feel frustrated and angry.  The constant stimuli that India always seems to provide were wearing down on me, and I needed a break.

That night, we brought up India snacks to the roof top terrace with views of the Taj Mahal, and munched on crackers, chips, and other treats with cool drinks.  It was exactly what we all needed – to be American twenty-somethings for just a few hours.  But the pleasant feelings could not last…

The next morning, Sunday, close to half the group was ill, and the rest where mentally exhausted.  While we toured the beautiful Agra Fort, we were clearly drained.  Again, we relished the quiet gardens and the amazing views.  After a long lunch at a restaurant staffed entirely by children, we headed home.  By the time we reached Jaipur that night, we slept deeply.

The weekend marked an important shift for me in that the constant mental gymnastics began to wear down as we participated in the mutually exploitative process that is Indian tourism.  The constant stimuli here provide a great number of challenging and unfamiliar images, which I inevitably try to understand and contextualize.  However, I feel arrested in my lack of concrete tools to do so.  In the United States I am able to understand phenomenon around me, and have a developed understanding of justice.  If a challenging situation arises that inhabits a murky gray area, I feel I have the tools to confront this.  However here in India I feel constantly lost and unsure of myself.  I fear two damaging scenarios: one where I impose an uninformed western superiority complex onto Indian culture and practices and the other where I accept injustice as ‘Indian’ and therein accept inequality as ‘culture.’  I don’t want to engage in either, but discovering the in-between is elusive and challenging.  I knew that this trip would be difficult and I have held no illusions that I would not be in this very struggle, however I’m not sure I completely expected it to be this intense or this isolated.  I don’t miss much about the United States, and I feel relatively comfortable here in India.  I am seeing amazing sights, eating delicious food, am in excellent company, and am engaging fascinating paradigms.  I only vaguely miss toilet paper and shower-heads (in India, everyone uses a bucket bath).  But what I do miss terribly is a sense of understanding.  I feel arrested in my lack of knowledge.

I hate to leave this post on such a uneasy note, so I should also say that I am not alone in my struggle.  The ten students I am surrounded by are engaging, fascinating, and too asking themselves many challenging and difficult questions.  There is a degree of partnership in this adventure, and we are engaging in it together.  No one said this trip would be easy, and the challenges are largely why we are here.  This trip is a process, and we will continue to engage.