We headed out onto the full blown tourist track and took a train over to Agra. We had not reserved a seat on the 1.5 hour train ride, so we ended up in General. Anyone who wants to get on the train can get a ticket, regardless of the train car capacities. With some good humor, we wedged ourselves onboard and ended up a full three feet later at the open door at the other side with a good view of the countryside rushing by us. That was our place for the next 2.5 hours with many people squishing by us to use the loo or to sell chai. We had a good chat with the gentlemen sitting in the aisle, and not surprisingly, upon hearing that we were from California, he asked us about Ahnold. We hung our heads in shame, then turned the tables on him and asked him about the Indian elections coming up this next month. He uttered the same sentiment that everyone seems to have here. The politicians promise the moon (water treatment plants, electricity without outages, sewage systems installed, hospitals), then the election passes and they live like rich men and absolutely nothing happens.
We’ve been reading the Times of India newspaper when we can, but the Hindustani Times seems more prevalent. Like South Africa, the papers are very country focused and world news is relegated to a half page (at best). The stories covered are the elections (BJP wanting to tear down mosques, Congress party wanting religious factions to be represented, etc..), the cricket game (”ODI - One Day Invitational”) between India and Pakistan, U.S. elections as relating to political stances on outsourcing (the basis for new wealth and development of a middle class in Bangalore and Hyderabad), fashion and Bollywood. No comment on AIDS or population control. At least Africa was tackling those two issues with a vengeance. We did see a few statistics on one of the news channels on population, though. The latest census has shown a 20% increase in population since 1991, and they expect the population to reach 1.5 billion people by 2050 or sooner. And Derrell just shuddered at this mornings newscast: 40% of Indians are carrying tuberculosis, a full 30% of the world’s TB population. SimCity is a bit of a wreck. The politicians will have plenty of work to do.
When we finished our evening with political discussions over the newspapers and great sighs evoked from the realization that it is impossible to get basic city infrastructure rolled out easily for a billion people. We headed out for dinner down a dirt road and found a good restaurant serving masala dosas, a rice flour pancake fried with dried cilantro and spicy red pepper that you eat with a spicy potato filling. That served along with a fresh lemon soda (club soda with 1/2 inch of fresh lemon juice in a glass) was fantastic. And the power only went out for one minute or so during dinner.
Our second day in Agra took us to the Agra Fort and the Taj Mahal. The fort had a spectacular view across the dusty river basin to the Taj. The fort had some of the same delicate jewel and stone flower inlays as the Red Fort in Delhi. You could envision just how luxurious of a lifestyle was underway with the marble floors, baths, views and stonework. Extrapolating a bit, the carpet, pillows, fabrics and lamps must have rounded out the atmosphere of the time. The place was first a military base, turned into a palace and finally a beautiful prison for the Shah Jahan where he could gaze out at the mausoleum he built for his wife. As for the Taj Mahal, we were in awe that such a structure was built. As romantic as it might be to build such a building for your ‘favorite’ wife after she dies giving birth to your 14th child, that was quite a few resources (20,000 builders over 22 years) to employ for a gravestone. The ‘romance’ continues to turn fanatical when you read that he had the thumbs cut off many of the architects and builders hands so they could not recreate a building of such perfection ever again. On the other hand, ignoring the lunatic funding the creation, the architects and builders did create a masterpiece. The gardens were flowing along the pathways with hundreds of tourists, with colorful saris making the scene look festive and summery. The ghosts of the creators should be proud. The mausoleum is in perfect condition, glistening white under the Indian blue skies. We were surprised to see that we had been there as long as we had which allowed us to catch the sun change the color of the white marble as it set. We were just a tad disappointed the fountains which line the gardens were empty that day. One waterway was being refilled in the late afternoon and the reflections from surface were stunning.
One moment of note, while we were in the gardens was watching a red-head be asked to hold a baby girl by a group of girls. She was a bit taken aback but I did get a picture of the full group together after she figured out that it was her very white skin and red hair that was the such a draw. We were amused until we were then targeted by another family. This time Derrell and I both had a one year old on our laps and the family crowded around for a picture with us. It went fairly well until the child on Derrell’s lap looked up at him and saw his beard and burst out in a full wail of terror that echoed across the marble platform and lasted for a half hour with many giggles from the group and embarrassment on our parts until grandma finally calmed the tears. Before this we also encountered a group pointing towards us saying, “There’s one! Look! He has long hair and earrings!” This happened a number of times, usually from men holding hands, which as often as we are seeing it, looked just as peculiar to us.
At the end of this long day, and after seeing a few more carts with decorated camels. I realized that it was a major mistake to have had fresh mango juice that morning. It was the beginning of what I now know would be four days of digestive disaster. Ah, India… now where is that clean water supply the last government promised?
