Incredible India Part Two: The Beginning of Our Trek to the Taj

The next day, I got up and got breakfast and went with a group of girls to the Spencer Plaza, a HUGE shopping mall that has everything from tiny, shops crammed with stuff to big department stores. I think it would take days to even see everything in the mall. I didn’t really buy much because I had to be back at the ship at 1 p.m. But, I did find a music store while we were wandering around, so I had fun seeing all the music there and ended up buying a bunch of CDs and two Bollywood movies for about $30. The exchange rate between the rupee and the dollar is really good right now – it’s 50:1.

So, I was just about to look in the Saree Palace, but I had to get back to the ship to meet the girls I was traveling with to the Taj Mahal. We planned on meeting really early for our 4:30 flight so that we could account for traffic and be at the airport with plenty of time to get onto the flight. We were told by Semester At Sea that you couldn’t take liquids on Indian flights, just like American flights, so we gathered all our toiletries together in one bag. Our plan was to fly from Chennai to Dehli then stay the night in Dehli, catch an early morning train to Agra, see the Taj Mahal, then take the train back to Dehli and stay in Dehli again that night before flying the next night back to Chennai.

So, we were all packed correctly and ready to go to the airport! We got a taxi and got to the airport with plenty of time. It wasn’t a very big airport, so we got through security pretty quickly. The thing that’s different in India is that women and men have to go through the security separately and frisked behind a screen, presumably to retain the modesty of some of the Hindu and Muslim women who prefer to be conservatively covered. Each of the carry-ons had to have a small tag on them stamped by security, as did the checked bag. We waited in the upstairs lobby and got some snacks from a stand. We sat where we could see the smoker’s area – a small glass-enclosed room with a large ventilation fan and a window – which I thought was kind of funny. Once the plane began boarding we took a bus to the airplane and boarded without any trouble. I was sitting in a window seat on the wing and two of the other girls were directly in front of me. The flight was really, really nice. Kingfisher Airlines, which I believe is owned by a beer company of the same name, has a lot of nice accommodations that aren’t present in most American flights. There was a TV in the back of every headrest, and the headphones are complimentary. There was also free food including a “snack” on our afternoon flight to Delhi and a dinner on the way back, which was basically the same amount of food as the generous snack – complete with small entrée, side vegetable, desert and coffee. And these were only two-hour flights. It was great!

Once we landed and got off the plane, Robyn, who had made most of the plans for the trip, had someone from our hostel (they call them guesthouses) come pick us up. So, everything worked out very smoothly and we were able to get the guesthouse with no problems at all. Once there, we met Ferros, who was in charge of the “Sunshine House,” as it was called. The only trouble was that we had actually booked three rooms, decided we only needed two, then were only able to take one because the other people in that room were sick and had to stay an extra night. But the backless wooden couches in the living room doubled as cots, so Ferros just moved two of them into a room with a king-size bed that was big enough for three, so all five of us stayed in one room. We had a shared bathroom connected to one of the other rooms, which was fine.

At first our plan was that we would have enough time to go see a Bollywood movie once we got settled, but by this time is was already 10 o’clock, and not only are the movies usually three hours long, but also we were kind of beat, so instead we just hung around in the living room and talked to the other travelers there after we ordered some take out from a nearby restaurant (even the chicken-fried rice was spicy!). The best part about the guesthouse was Ferros’s little dog, Romey, like Romeo, because they said he loves all the girls that come stay there. As he should – he was a black and brown wiener dog! With his little tail whapping and his waddling all over the place, we enjoyed the fact that he was there.

I also enjoyed the company of the other guests: two Italian girls, who I didn’t get to know too well; an Iranian-Canadian guy named Shayne (pronounced like Cheyenne, Wyoming); and an Irish couple, Tim and Slaine (pronounced slow-na). I really enjoyed talking to the couple, who had just begun their traveling and had arrived in India that day (Friday). They were traveling around India for a while and also decided to trek to Nepal and go up to the Mt. Everest base camp (inspired by Slaine’s sister) and they were also visiting Tibet and Cambodia or Laos, I think. Slaine said they only had about 8 weeks (because they had to get back for Slaine’s sister’s wedding) and had been saving up for about six months. She said after that they were continuing to Australia to look for jobs, Slaine as a dentist and Tim as some kind of architect. Tim said that the two met when they wre in a nightclub and Tim was “taken advantage of,” in his joking words, when Slaine threw her scarf around his neck and started to dance with him. I thought it was cute. They were really cool and I first talked to them about Galway, since that’s where Katie is studying this semester. We also talked a little bit about St. Patrick’s Day in Ireland, which the two said was actually more fun in Galway! Even though Tim regaled me a bit with stories of Germany’s Oktoberfest, he, and Slaine alike, said they preferred Irish hard cider and didn’t really like Guiness! Hmm...there goes that stereotype, I guess. We also talked about pets and TV and a few other things. It was a really nice night! And meeting them in India made it even better.

The only bad thing was that I stayed up until about 2 a.m. and we were getting up at 4:30 a.m. to get to the train station early to catch our 6 a.m. train. Hooray! Haha. Actually it wasn’t really a problem. The other girls set their alarms and we all got up and out on time. The train station we went to wasn’t the big New Delhi station, it was a little smaller and more navigable, even though it was still chaos, as I found most of India is. I think we were some of the only white people in the whole place, but we didn’t have any trouble figuring out what platform we were on. We noticed it on a big lighted sign, then asked a security guard and were able to find it just fine. That was an interesting experience – waiting on the train platform amid people sleeping in the station, most of which was open rather than enclosed, people trying to find their train, women carrying large packages on their heads, people selling snacks from little stalls. People everywhere. And kind of dingy and dirty, too. But nothing too scary. It was also comforting that you knew even if something happened that most people spoke English. For instance, once our train got there we wanted to be sure it was the right one and as we were about to get on, we simply asked a young guy if it was the right train and he checked out our ticket paper and helped us. We were lucky to have gotten five seats together on the train to Agra in a six-person little compartment. The seats were like benches and the backrest of the seat could actually be lifted up to make a middle bunk, while there was also a bunk on the top, so when they were all folded properly they were actually three beds. I don’t think our car was air conditioned, but it could have been, either way, it didn’t really bother us since it was early in the morning. Again, the train wasn’t totally filthy, but it was a little rough around the edges and was definitely an interesting experience. Across from the six-person compartment was an aisle, then space for two more seats that also converted into bunks. There were guys that would come past yelling “Chai! Chai!” or whatever they were selling – soup from a large canteen, omlette, and other things. It was about a two and a half hour train ride.

During the course of the ride, I started to talk with the lone person in our compartment who wasn’t in our group, a man named Vivek. I think I first started talking to him about the newspaper he had. It was in Hindi and I couldn’t read it obviously, so I asked him if there was any good news. We talked for most of the train ride and I learned a lot about him. He was a battery salesmen on the way to a meeting in Agra to discuss a new branch of the business there, I think. He was married and just had his three-year anniversary with his wife, Ranjana, and had a 2-month-old son named Daksh, which means “precious,” “costly,” or “valuable.” He said that he had a “love marriage” (as opposed to an arranged marriage) and had met his wife at work. I forget how much schooling he said he had, but I do remember that it seemed like he had been at his job for a while, since he and his co-workers played in a volleyball league at night after work. He was a really, really nice man and helped us out a lot and even went out of his way when he didn’t have to. We were really glad to have him and he became really good friends with me. I didn’t really sleep too much on the train as I had planned to because I was talking to Vivek. His English wasn’t phenomenal, but we could understand each other enough to have a conversation that wasn’t frustrating. I think I remember him saying that he was originally from farther north than Delhi and that he still went to visit his parents there often. He also mentioned that his business plans a vacation for workers and their families to go on and go to the beach every year and that was coming up soon. A few of the other girls started talking to a man on the other side of us in the little two-person compartment. So, the ride was very pleasant all around, I think. Once we got off the train, Vivek helped us find our way out of the station and got us all a taxi so that we could go get breakfast together before venturing to see the Taj Mahal. Vivek even thought he would have enough time to be able to see the monument with us. So, we went to a place called the “Only Restaurant” (for some unknown reason) and had a traditional Indian breakfast, rather than the toast and eggs that the place also offered. It was really good, and wasn’t too spicy. We all got coffee too.

Then we headed off to the Taj. The taxi driver dropped us off and it seemed like the whole place was enclosed in a kind of park atmosphere, which you have to walk through to get to one of the gates where you can get in to see the Taj Mahal. Down the street as we were walking, there are all types of transportation: horse-drawn carts, camel-drawn wagons, rickshaws, etc. There were many different drink and snack carts. There were also lots of people, as there is everywhere in India, and lots of hawkers trying to sell Taj Mahal snow globe key chains, t-shirts, postcards and magnets. All bombarding you with: “50 rupees? How about two for 50? Ok, three for 50? All six of these for 50?” “No, no, no, no.” Since Morocco, I’d like to think I’ve gotten better to saying no to people like that. I also got kind of good at saying no or casting my eyes somewhere else when beggars asked for food. I don’t know if I’m necessarily proud of that, but we can have a long philosophical discussion when I get back about whether or not it’s good to feed or give money to beggars.

We made it to the ticket counter, which was separated by native Indians and foreigners. The Indian government figured it out (which I’m surprised that the American government hasn’t done) that people are going to come see the Taj Mahal regardless of how much they pay, so the foreigner price is Rs750 (about $15), where the Indian price is Rs20 (about $0.40). That being said, a couple of us didn’t have that many rupees in our wallets, so we had to go find an ATM, which wasn’t really close – probably about the equivalent of about 4 or 5 city blocks before we actually found one that was working. And this was the part that Vivek was also an invaluable asset, since he was able to ask people on the street for us and lead us to a reputable bank. It was kind of warm and even Vivek was getting kind of sweaty during our trek. But, we all got out some more money and were finally ready to see the Taj. Unfortunately, Vivek had to leave for his meeting even though he said he had never been to the Taj Mahal before. We said our goodbye before entering an auto-rickshaw, but he had urged me to give him a call as we were waiting for the train back and perhaps he would try and catch the same train back to Delhi with us. But, he did say something to the effect of, “If we’re meant to see each other again, we will, but if not, I’ve truly enjoyed your friendship.” He was just extremely nice and caring – and we had just met him, I couldn’t believe it! I just couldn’t imagine someone in the U.S. opening themselves up enough to do this sort of thing for another American, let alone a foreign visitor. It was truly amazing and a demonstration of one of the best parts of humanity – kindness.

Finally, on to the Taj!

Why don’t I make it a cliffhanger and save that for my next post, since this one is getting kind of long? :o)