India: Taj Mahal

As soon as Jon and I arrived in Delhi Saturday morning, we hooked up with Stu and Hannah at their guesthouse and all went to lunch. I spent the next two days mostly milling about town with Stu, helping him with some last-minute shopping before we said goodbye and he left for the airport Monday morning. On a sad note, I received an e-mail that my grandfather had passed away Friday. I was able to call home and speak to my mother, feeling very sad and helpless and sorry that I could not be with the family.

Still feeling rather sad and lonely, I boarded a Monday morning's train to Agra, home of the Taj Mahal. About twenty minutes into the trip, a greasy young Indian boy sat right next to me in our nearly-empty compartment. I ignored him at first, but then he continued to brush his feet against my legs and began speaking gurgling Hindi to me. I finally told him to get lost, and when he eventually left, he grabbed my nose! I was angry, but I guess a little nose grab is better than a boob grab, so I let it go. Later, another guy sat next to me, but he was a genuinely friendly person, and after a few hesitant, "My nose just got molested!" moments, I began chatting away to him. He even offered me some of the lunch his mother had prepared! What a gem! Finally, as our train pulled into the Agra Fort Station, I bade Nishan goodbye, whistled for a rickshaw, and began my ride to the great Taj Mahal.

All throughout my ride through the winding streets to the Taj entrance, to my traipse through the wooded walkway to the entrance, I received tons of google-eyed stares, near-begging by anxious rickshaw drivers and tour guides, as well as snide Hindi catcalls (and I assure you, I was not a thing of beauty in my sweaty attire and disheveled hair!). I ignored it, as I have learned to do in my nearly two blonde-haired years in Asia, and made my way to the entrance. I paid the exorbitant foreigner entrance fee of 750 Rupees, and stood in the "Ladies Only" security queue. I was surprised to find a few dandy transvestites (who later wanted to pose for photos with me), the first I have seen or even heard of in India, sharply elbow their way to the front of the line (I tried my hardest to resist, but those gals were just too strong!) Finally, I made it through the checkpoint and proceeded to the Taj Mahal (but not before a couple fat Indian brats screamed "White Monkey" at me...who do they think they are?!).

Apart from the now annoying staring, leering, lewd noises, and name-calling from the Indian tourists, the Taj Mahal was breathtakingly stunning. It is everything I was expecting and hoping for...and then some. The Taj was built by Emperor in the seventeenth century as a mausoleum to his dear wife, and one could literally feel the warmth and romance oozing throughout the grounds devoted to love. Now, I am anything but a romantic, but I could not escape feeling the warm fuzzies (and a bit of the "I'm single...Waaaahhh!" blues). I wandered about in tranquility, snapped some photos of the gorgeous gem-studded white marble structure and its accompanying mosques, and found a cozy bench to read and reflect (okay, actually I just wanted to finish my Sudoku puzzle!). Finally, the heat, stares, and annoying laughs got the best of me (I was not in the right mood, I suppose, in all my lonely, in the middle of puke-worthy romance state), and after telling a couple of crafty male potential photographers to piss off, I had to leave.

I made it back to the train station just in time to have a quick dinner of butter naan and chai, pick up my bag, and board the train to Jaipur. As I read this blog, it seems I had a bad day. Yes, my experience with Indian tourists was not what I was in the mood for, but the Taj Mahal was simply amazing...it was definitely worth every bit of the 750 Rupees I paid!