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November 27, 2007 written by: Brian Current Location: Kathmandu, Nepal A Tough day of Travels,
I remember a saying when I first started snowboarding it went, A bad day on the mountain is still better then a good day at work. Now, while I have used that saying often, especially as we travel, I much would have preferred a day at work then our day below.
We were tired from the six-hour bus trip on a crappy, smelly bus that only stopped once so we could relieve ourselves. Imagine a coach bus from 1950 and you will have a pretty good picture of what we were riding on and lets just say, Indians are not afraid to let their natural “bodily functions” flow when every they deem it necessary, if you get my drift. The windows didn’t work and there is no air-conditioning. Sounds like fun right?
We also learned on our bus ride that we made a huge mistake, the Taj Mahal is not open on Fridays and guess what, tomorrow is Friday and it is the only reason we are heading to Agra on the crappy bus. It is a mosque so only Muslims are allowed to enter. So upon arrival at 4:00 we rushed to the place we were staying, charge our camera battery for 30 minutes (you have already heard that story) and head to the Taj. It closes at 7:00 so we have two hours to see it or so we think.
Let the Chaos begin. The line is a half hour long and the sun is starting to set when we arrive at 5:00. We pay the 1500 rupees (35.00 USD) for our ticket, which we think is little expensive for India standards and stand in line. We are approached by a government guide and asked if we want a guided tour for 500 rupees (12.50 USD), which we decline. Then the guy proceeds to tell us if we use him as a guide, we do not have to stand in line. “A no hassle quick entrance” he tells us. I tell him I do not want a guide but for 300 rupees I will pay him for the entrance then he can go about his way. We agree and we all head for the front of the line and he proceeds to push people out of the way with the help of the Army to allow us the “special” entrance. We must have been specially retarded, not thinking it through and now we did what we hate the most and we cut in front of 100 people to gain entrance. The army guys and guides are all in on the deal and they all get a cut of the money. It is official but afterward we think it officially stinks.
We take a minute to get over our selves for cutting and head in to enjoy the last half an hour of light on the Taj Mahal. It is truly one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. Indian’s say it is one of the 7 wonders of the world, officially its not but it should be. Its Amazing
The headache though continues as try to get up to the inside of the Taj. There are stairs and hundreds of people pushing and shoving to get up to see the inlay of semi-precious stones on the white marble. This line takes another half hour with people pushing and shoving, children getting squished and tension levels rising. Susan at one points turns and yells at the India guy pushing her and tries to get them to understand that pushing is not going to get you to the top any faster, but they don’t understand. I am thinking about enrolling her in a Ashram (meditation center) just to help her relieve the tension from the experience.
We do finally get up to the mosque, its dark now so we can’t see anything and no lights are allowed. We snap a couple of quick flash photos of the marble and shrine inside and head out to go get some dinner. After a dinner of the worst Indian food imaginable as it didn't even have taste we head outside to get a rickshaw to take us back to our hostel and the guy tells us it is going to cost us $3 US dollars to go ten minutes. It is only supposed to cost us about a dollar so he is charging us triple the rate. We haggle with him but he does not relent, telling us we have the money to pay him were westerners. We are now very unhappy with him, Susan once again needs a meditation class to calm down, to put it nicely, and decide we will hoof it home.
We get back to our hostel exhausted from a long day. We think that we have been tested from every angle and lay down to relax. As we do that though the mosquitoes come out with a full-fledged army assault and start to attack. The only thing we can think to do is attempt to counter so we start swatting away. After 30 mins of battle we won the war because we got most of them. Susan ended up with a few war wounds from the marine sceeters but she healed quickly. We tucked a towel under the door and sat lay back down to watch a movie on the computer.
As the computer is booting up I look over to make sure the towel is working and that no more mosquitoes are coming in. At that moment I see our second visitor of the night, a RAT!! yes a rat pushes his way though the towel and into are room. Now I am not happy, I hate rats. I pick up the closest thing next to me (no not the computer or even Susan), my shoe and throw it against the wall where the rat was running. It must have scared him half to death because he turned tail ran back across the floor and under the towel. I ran over to the door and tuck the towel under the door nice and secure this time. With a full day of buses, crowds, monuments and hassles we decided it was best just to get some sleep. Hoping tomorrow would be better….
We got up this morning but had no water to shower, not a good way to start the day. They told us maybe in a half hour there would be water again. The hostel had just used all the water to get ready to clean the rooms. Perplexed by the notion that check out is at 10:00 and at 9:00 there is no hot water, we decided to go eat breakfast. If you can figure it our let us know.
Breakfast is either porridge or eggs most of the time. Most of the time they are not bad but you do need a little more variety so I decide to go with the American breakfast for a change and order corn flakes. My corn-flakes come out with steaming hot milk, I do not know why they give you hot milk but they do. I never heard of cereal with hot milk before, it must be an Indian thing. It was edible though and I wash it down with my supposedly fresh mango juice that comes in a bottle, bottled by the Coca Cola Company, so much for fresh juice. After breakfast we are informed that the water is back on so I head into shower and to pack up our bags.
Our rickshaw driver takes us on the 3-hour tour of Agra, picture Gilligan’s Island and I am not talking about the white sand beaches and palm trees. It is pretty chaotic driving over a bridge that is falling apart and sitting in traffic with the pollution gagging us we breath. We head to see the backside of the Taj Mahal from a park, the best view as today it is closed due to Friday prayer for Muslims. We walk down the dirt road to the park dodging the cow patties to see another beautiful view of the Taj Mahl from the backside.
After that we head over to the baby Taj, which was built first and it is where the Taj Mahal got its inspiration so not I am not sure why it is the baby, again another one of those Indian things that dont make sense. It is smaller but nonetheless magnificent with the inlaid semi-precious stones in the white marble.
Now the interesting part of the story, or stressing part if you were there. We get off our three and half hour train ride from Agra to New Delhi. The train ride was uneventful except for the Indian kid from high school that wanted to talk my ear off about the book I was reading, my ipod, which he wanted, and Hindi movies, which he was an expert on. He said he was bored and didn’t understand how I could be reading for two hours so he wanted to talk. My lucky day.
The excitement though started once we got off the train and a porter took our suitcase for us. We have no problem with a porter assisting us with the suitcase, as we are tired of lugging it around (it has all our hiking equipment in it). He navigates us through the thick, smelly, bustling crowd to the taxi/rickshaw stand. We proceed to pay him 20 rupees ($0.50) as a sign posted says 15 rupees for 40 kilos. The porter, an old man, is angry and demands 50 rupees from us. We plead our case that the sign states only 15 and we are paying you 20.
Now I know you are all thinking, what the hell are we doing arguing with a guy over less than dollar but that is not the issue. It is not the dollar that is the problem. The fact of the matter is the price was posted and we should not have to pay more just because we are tourists and people think we are loaded. A crowd is now starting to form and Susan is yelling at the old man for trying to cheat us (again thinking she needs a mediation class) I decide that we have had a long day and give the man another 20 rupees and we call it even.
Now it is time to find a taxi/rickshaw to take us the 15/20 mins to our guesthouse where we are staying. The rickshaw guys ask where we need to go and we tell the Smyle Inn.
Rickshaw man: He says no problem with a big smile “lets go.”
Us: We stop him and ask “How much?”
Rickshaw man: “No expensive, come on.”
Us: “How Much” losing our patience.
Rickshaw man: “Cheap only 350 rupees ($7.50).”
Us: “WHAT!!!, No way, no thank” Susan is really angry again.
Rickshaw man: “Ok how about 300 rupees?”
Brian: laughing “No thanks still to high, namste, shukrya”(good bye and thank you)
Rickshaw man: “Ok last price, 250 rupees?”
Brian: With a smile “No your to high, again thanks.”
So we attempt to figure out how far away we are and come to the conclusion we are 15 kilometers away, about a 15-minute ride. The ride should not cost us any more then about 100 rupees but we are at a train station and they know we need them more then they need us. Another taxi guy comes over to us and we ask him how much, he says 250. I say 200 final offer and he reluctantly agrees. He is tired and wants to get a fare before he heads home for the evening.
The funny thing is that we forgot to get the address of the hotel we are staying; we know the general area but not the exact address. Now in India it is considered disrespectful to say No. For example, If a store does not have something you ask for they will NOT tell you no we don’t have it, they might say we think we may have some in the back room or we will look for it, then never return. In a taxis case they say they know where they are taking you and then ask 20 people on the way where the place is, as was the case was with our hotel.
Our friendly driver asked 10 people where our hotel was and not one knew the name. We continued to tell him it is next to the train station but he would just keep stopping every couple blocks and ask another rickshaw driver. After 45 minutes we are in front of the train station and he asks someone else and they point down the street.
Finally the end is in sight or so we hope. We get to the hotel take the bags out and pay the guy 300 rupees for his troubles and our stupidity of forgetting the address. We head up stairs and pass out, the only saving grace we think is we only have 3 days left in India.  Be first to comment this article |  Add as favourites (25) | Views: 123
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Last Updated ( Thursday, 13 December 2007 )
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Taj Mahal: Beauty and the Beast
Written by: Susan
Date: December 9, 2007
Current location: Katmandu, Nepal
We were headed for our final destination in India before heading back to Delhi to catch our flight to Kathmandu. The great Taj Mahal beckoned to us. It had always been on my list of things to see in the world because it just seemed so grand and mythical. We took a 5 hour bus ride from Jaipur to Agra (home of the Taj Mahal). It was a Thursday and our plan was to spend all day Friday visiting the Taj before heading back on an evening train to Delhi.
While bumping along the backroads of India, on our non-airconditioned bus where I happened to have the only window that did not open, I opened up our guide book to read about the Taj. All of a sudden I came across the hours of operation information. It said “Hours: Sat – Thurs 7am-7pm”. Wait, I thought….what about Friday? I panicked. How could it be possible that the Taj would not be open on a Friday? I bumped Brian and asked him to read it. Maybe I was missing something. Meanwhile, Brian had befriended an Indian guy whose brother happened to live in Washington State. Talk about a small world. Brian asked him. The guy didn’t know but he asked another guy who said that yes, the Taj is closed on Friday’s because it is a mosque! Crap!
All of a sudden we’re looking at our watches. We’re “supposed” to get into Agra at around 3pm but after months of traveling, we know that rarely happens. It’s almost 3 and we’re about an hour away from Agra. We calculate that if the bus gets into Agra around 4pm, we can race to our hotel, dump off our stuff and head to the Taj. That would give us about 3 hours. Not ideal, but we couldn’t have come all the way to India and not see the Taj. So that was our plan.
Meanwhile, I remember another thing that I screwed up on. Quite a biggie at this point as we are now on a tight time schedule. We always carry 2 batteries for everything we have since we never know when we’ll have the opportunity to charge a battery or when the battery will run out. Brian had been asking me for the last several days if our 2nd camera battery was charged. I kept telling him yes because I had distinctly remembered charging it. Earlier on the bus ride, the camera battery had run out and I had put in the replacement only to find that the 2nd battery was also dead. So now we had 2 dead camera batteries. It wasn’t a big deal when we were planning to visit the Taj on Friday, but now it was almost a state of emergency.
I meekly pecked Brian and informed him of the bad news. Let’s just say, wherever you were at the time was probably better than the hot seat I was in. I didn’t even need a lecture on how bad I screwed up. Now we would have to check into the hotel, wait for at least a half hour so that our battery could get some charge and then head over to the Taj. Ok, that would still give us a couple of hours at the Taj so we relaxed again.
We got to our hotel, told our rickshaw driver that we needed to charge our battery and would be ready to go in a half hour. We impatiently waited, watching the battery (as if that helps!) and finally decided that it was charged enough. We go racing off in the rickshaw to the entrance. We look at the throngs of people and can’t believe this is the entrance. Again, I’m not sure if we were living in some kind of Cinderalla fairytale where we didn’t even consider lines or what, but there they were in all their glory. Hundreds and hundreds of people waiting to get in 2 hours before closing. Not only that, you had to buy your ticket in one line and then go stand in another line.
I went to stand in the 2nd line while Brian ran around looking for the ticket line. Meanwhile, I’m getting harassed by all the touts to buy the super cheesy souvenirs they’re selling including cheap keychains, small Taj snowglobes, and anything else you can think of. Finally I get fed up with this young kid who won’t stop harassing me, look him square in the face and do my best “don’t speak English” in Chinese accent. It works. He leaves me alone since he can’t speak Chinese. Ahhhh, the skills you learn on the road (hopefully it will pay off in a good job when we get home )
Brian finally comes back and says that if we pay for a guide, there is a separate entrance that gets us in right away. We consider it. First of all, they totally rip off tourists when it comes to getting in the Taj. It costs us $20 each to get in when it costs an Indian something like $1. I can understand charging tourists more, but it seemed extreme to charge $20 to get into a monument. Then it would cost us an additional $10 for the “guided” tour. We decided to go for it since it was getting dark and we would risk not seeing the Taj at all and having to stay in Agra another night (which we definitely did not want to do). So we pay the only “official” tour guide and he basically pushes us to the front of the line. There was no separate entrance. That really made me mad but we got in.
Then we ditched the tour guide and ran towards the Taj. The Taj is actually part of a larger compound with manicured gardens, buildings, etc. but we only had time to see the Taj. Our first sighting took my breath away. Everything became worth it to see the Taj in person. It looked liked it had risen in this ethereal form from the ground and up towards the heavens. It was fantastic. The most beautiful architectural building we have seen thus far on our trip. It’s hard to even put into words how beautiful it is. We just stood and stared for a few minutes. Snapped some photos and rushed towards it.
The odd thing is that considering they charge you so much money to get in, none of the grounds are lighted and there are barely any official workers in there for crowd control. As we got closer, you can take off your shoes and actually ascend these narrow staircases to go inside the Taj. This is where a typical Indian contradiction comes in. After seeing one of the most beautiful sites in the world, things got very ugly.
Since there are no officials anywhere, everybody is pushing and shoving on the staircase to get upstairs. There are children that are getting squished, old ladies pinned to my back, men just downright pushing through. It was chaos, mayhem, disaster, all of the above. I couldn’t believe how disorderly it was and people were actually getting hurt, especially the children. I shoved one lady who was trying to trample over this little girl in front of me. Men were trying to push me forward. Suddenly I just lost it. All my patience from traveling went flying at the window. I started just yelling at the men at the top of my lungs to STOP! I shoved them and told them to wait. They all looked at me in surprise. Indian’s aren’t used to confrontation at all especially from a woman. I was so angry though that I just couldn’t handle it anymore. Brian even lost his cool a little but not as much as me. Finally, we made it up and were glad to get out of the staircase mess. I definitely wasn’t looking forward to going down.
Even after all that though, nothing could diminish my awe of the Taj Mahal. Inside, there was beautifully inlaid colored stones in floral patterns. Against, the white marble it looked absolutely pristine. The Taj was in such great condition it actually looked like it had been built yesterday. So we left the Taj far after the sun had set and headed home. Happy that we had seen the Taj Mahal in all its glory.
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Last Updated ( Sunday, 09 December 2007 )
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The Children of India
By: Susan
Date: December 9, 2007
Current location: Kathmandu, Nepal
* We have a few more India postings and will be posting them up every few days in order to get caught up to Nepal*
Children of India
In the news, we’ve grown up seeing all the starving children of Africa. Children with flies flying around their face, paunchy tummies, and wide vacant eyes staring back at us across the TV screen. India though seems to be the forgotten land of children, just as destitute, just as desperate.
India’s overpopulation and lack of resources means that millions of people live in poverty. Those that seem to suffer the most are the children. In India, we encountered more starving children and mothers with infants than in any other country we’ve traveled in thus far. I’m not sure how or why the poverty in India is so great. I definitely think overpopulation is a problem but it’s got to be more than that. Government, of course, always plays an integral role in the livelihood of their people. But what else is it that makes poverty in India so overwhelming?
We’ve been in a moral dilemma since arriving in India. Actually, it’s a dilemma we’ve faced everywhere. Do you give beggars money, food, or nothing? How much should you give them? What is the politically correct thing to do? One argument is that you shouldn’t give them anything because it just teaches them to beg instead of seeking out a more sustainable way to survive. On the other hand, looking at a dirty, starving child’s face is heartbreaking and really all they want is something to eat. Is it bad to give them food? Does that also teach children to beg instead of going to school and learning the proper way to take care of themself? It becomes even more morally challenging when a meal costs 25 cents. How can you deprive someone of a meal that only costs 25 cents?
After talking to several of our hotels, they all have different takes. We’ve had ones that have told us not to give them anything. It just teaches them bad habits. There are programs and places in India they can go for food and necessities. Then there are other’s that tell us it’s ok to buy them food if they are hungry. We could buy them a 5 or 10 rupee (10-15cent) street meal. Again, no consistent answer to our dilemma. So we decided for ourselves that we would carry fruit and if a child was hungry we would give him a piece of fruit. Harmless and cheap…..we think.
Our first encounter was at the train station in the town of Agra, home of the Taj Mahal. Brian had just bought a bag of apples and bananas from the fruit vendor at the train platform. People are constantly coming up to us everywhere we go so we knew there would be no shortage of people here. I think as Westerners we pretty much have a dollar sign pasted to the top of our heads. Everybody in the world has a warped vision that money really does grow on trees in the United States.
A kid around 8 years old comes up and asks Brian for some food. Brian gives him an apple and he starts eating it right away. We continue walking down the platform towards our section of the train. A few minutes later another younger kid, around 6 comes up. Brian gives him a banana. A few minutes later an older man (perhaps the father?) comes up asking for food. The word has gotten out that Brian is handing out fruit. We say no to the older man. Our thoughts are that an adult can find a job or a way to make money to buy food whereas a child can not. He goes away.
A few minutes later the 6 year old kid comes back and wants another banana. Brian asks him where is the banana I just gave you? The other unfortunate thing about poverty is that most times the kids are used as a begging tool. Instead of receiving the food for themselves, they are forced to give it to their parents or elder siblings. This is what was happening in the case of the kid and the banana. Obviously the first banana had been given to his older brother (the kid who we had given the apple to).
Brian told the 6 year old to come closer to him. Brian peeled the banana and tried to give him a piece. The little kid shook his head and just smiled. He didn’t know what to do since he really wasn’t supposed to be the one eating the food. Brian told him that he (the kid) would have to eat the banana right there in front of us to ensure that it was the kid that would be eating the banana. The kid kept running back and forth from us to his older brother (apple kid) who was sitting about 5 feet away from us. Undecided and not sure how to handle the situation, he continued to just fidget and smile. Finally he took a piece of the banana that Brian was offering him. Immediately he turned around and gave it to his older brother. Brian and I had both been watching the transaction and told him no. We made the older brother give the piece of banana back to the younger kid and made him put it in his mouth and eat it.
It’s ironic how we had suddenly in a weird way become the protectors of this little kid. Had we not insisted that he take the banana back from his older brother and eat it in front of us, he would have continued to starve. Not that the banana filled him up at all, but we saw the way his face lit up and the brief moment of joy he felt from actually being able to eat something. Simply heartbreaking.
So we’re back to our dilemma as we can not really go around insisting that whatever food we give people they eat right in front of us nor do we want to condone and encourage behavior where children are extorted for the sake of their parents and older siblings.
I think that has been one of the most frustrating things about the poverty we’ve seen is that so many western organizations help out either through church groups, Non-governmental organizations or private charities, yet how much success can there really be if the people who are supposed to be the protectors (i.e. the parent’s children or the local government) aren’t even doing their part?
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Hello all, We just finished trekking 10 days in the Himalayas in the Annapurna Region. It was beautiful. We will be updating the blog when we get back to Katmandu in two days. Thanks for checking in on us. Susan and Brian Be first to comment this article | Add as favourites (27) | Views: 124 |
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India 