I am going to make an exception to the Blog 2.0 adventure for this one day, which was an amazing day, full of fun, adventure, and too much not to be its own entry. So, here you go, Tuesday, June 22nd, my day in Agra, India.
Today was my big adventure day in India. I would be travelling to Agra to see a great many marvelous things, but I also knew that I needed to be careful so as not to allow the heat or the touts to get to me. My train left early in the morning, so I awoke even earlier, at about five in the morning, a task made easier by a phone call from my family (we had discovered last night that if they called the phone in my hotel room there would be no charges on either end, through the miracle that is Skype/Vonage). I took a taxi to the railway station, where I was surprised by how busy it was at six in the morning. My train was already at the platform, so I boarded and found my seat. I was yet again surprised how few people around me were tourists, even on the very tourist oriented AC Shatabdi Express train to Agra.
The train ride itself was pretty uneventful. I was sitting next to two Japanese girls who took it upon themselves to giggle at everything the entire way to Agra. Couple this with the screaming baby a few rows away and it is easy to see why my attempts at napping bore neither fruit nor rest. To their eternal credit, the operators of the train route thought it best to include breakfast in the ticket, so I was fed during the two hour trip. The airline food certainly wasn’t a revolution in taste, but it did get my engines going for the long day ahead.
Upon arrival; at Agra Cantonment Station I was immediately bombarded by people offering me deals on taxis and every manner of service that it was legal to offer. After passing through this tout gauntlet I found myself at the prepaid taxi stand. Having momentarily deflated the hopes of my aggressors, I bought a reasonably priced and safe ride to my first stop of the day, the world famous Taj Mahal. On the long drive over (Agra’s main sites are all built along the river which has led to them being spread out) my driver, Gudu, offered to be my driver for the day, with AC included, for a reasonable price. He seemed like a nice guy and he certainly know a great deal about his hometown, so I told him I would take him up on the offer. Gudu dropped me off at the West Gate of the Taj. There are three such gates, to the West, South, and East, and each is the barrier past which motorized vehicles cannot pass, about a kilometer away from the monument. This is due to fears of corrosion of the delicate white marble exterior of the building from the exhaust of the numerous cars in Agra. I was thus required to walk the distance, being held up by touts, rickshaw drivers, and cheap souvenir hawkers every few steps along the path. Although it was only nine in the morning at this point, the sun had already begun to beat down on the city with a fearsome ferocity. The walk left me feeling pretty sweaty, but eventually I came to the ticket window. The entrance rates for Indians and for foreigners are vastly different, but it’s not a policy I am opposed to, as it allows the poorer segments of the Indian population access to a world heritage site in their own country, while also taking maintenance fees from the tourists, who can afford them.
I’m not really sure what I had been expecting of the Taj Mahal. It’s an image that everyone has seen, so I knew what to expect to some extent, but the majesty of the building and the grounds were still completely captivating on a level I hadn’t quite expected. No matter how much preparation I had done, there was no escaping the fact that the building is a masterpiece of human architectural design, as well as a very moving tribute to the love between an Emperor and his Queen.
The complex itself has a giant gateway building, on one side of which is a large plaza, while on the other side is the monument itself and its accompanying buildings. The gateway arch, as with most arches in Mughal style, is inscribed with Quranic verses written in Arabic calligraphy. Upon coming through this gateway I got my first view of the Taj Mahal, across the gardens from me. I cannot presume to be able to fully capture its splendor in written/electronic words, and thankfully most of you reading this will have seen pictures of it, and some of you may have seen it with your own eyes even, so you will have some idea, but I was completely blown away by it. In a serene garden complex stands a beautiful, pure, pristine, remarkable tribute to a lost wife. It displays all of the most wonderful elements of Mughal design, of which symmetry is the most important. The octagonal structure of the Taj Mahal itself, with slightly onion shaped domes, and four surrounding minarets is amazing enough, and the two buildings on either side of it only add to the splendor. For symmetry’s sake, on one side is a mosque, while on the other side is an identical building which scholars believe was used as a guesthouse for those coming to visit the tomb. The white marble and the geometric designs shone off the dullness of the hazy Indian sky (on a side note I would be grateful to see the sky again, even if it was cloudy. As it stands, this hazy gray ambiguity is a tad unnerving). I could only imagine how amazing the whole thing must look on a clear day, as would have been more common in the pre-Industrial time of the Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan. It was enjoyable just to walk around the grounds, looking at the Taj from different angles. The interior was also beautiful, in a more heartwarming way, as both emperor and queen were entombed, side by side.
After my time at the world’s greatest monument to love and mourning, I walked back to the West Gate, to reunite with Gudu and proceed to my next stop. Unfortunately, I got out of the Taj a little early and Gudu was not yet there. I wasn’t going to wait around in the heat, especially when there were so many things to see, so I found myself an autorickshaw. I had the driver take me to the Amarvilas Hotel, where I could get a cold coffee and a small meal while sitting in the AC.
The Amarvilas, dubbed one of India’s finest resorts, was an experience in and of itself, and one I was happy to have. The road there passed by some very poor areas, as well as numerous animals, from cows and camels to goats and dogs. It was a very interesting contrast to see such poverty and such wealth, and indeed this contrast is the reason I chose India as a research destination. I will be going tomorrow to conduct my main research trip for India, visiting a world renowned hospital in Delhi, which treats both very wealthy foreigners and locals who cannot afford primary care. I am very excited to see what kind of differences in care I can observe. Enough of that for now though, and back to my day of travel in Agra. I spent about 45 minutes at the hotel (brilliantly positioned hotel, by the way, as every room has a beautiful view of the Taj Mahal) where I had some smoked salmon and scrambled eggs on a bagel, for $6. Even the luxury hotels are cheap in this country. My dinner last night, for instance, was only $2 for more food than I could even contemplate finishing.
After my brunch I got an autorickshaw to take me to the Agra Fort, the lasting masterpiece of Mughal military might and palatial splendor. What the Taj Mahal is to love, the Agra Fort is to strength and sheer intimidation. On the way there I again noticed how all of the roads in India seem to be under construction. I also saw a troop of monkeys walking down the road on the way over, which was cool, although I had been told by the locals not to approach them because they can be fierce if they sense you might have food. As I said previously, there were cows everywhere, and they were all chained to rocks or trees, in an effort to keep their good spirits in the vicinity. At the Agra Fort, after paying the modest and un-Taj Mahal-like ticket price, I found myself a guide to show me around the absolutely massive grounds. My guide, who remained nameless throughout the tour, led me through the various sections of the fort which were open to the public, which was only about a quarter of the total grounds, since the other 75% are still used as active military grounds by the Indian Army. My guide told me all about the various structures, including the immense welcoming gate, where the emperor would come in resplendent on the back of an elephant, the defense system (crocodile moat, high wall, lion and tiger park, thick wall, ramp on which burning oil would be poured, gate with archers), both of which left no doubt in my mind as to why no one ever attempted to conquer the fort while the Mughals ruled here. I was also shown the myriad palace buildings, which were all beautiful even though they had long since been stripped of their gold, jewels, carpets, and riches by marauders. Of particular interest was the prison palace where Shah Jahan, he of Taj Mahal fame, was kept by his son after he had been overthrown. All of the palace buildings had very innovative engineering designs to allow for primitive AC in the hot summer months, and heat preservation in the cooler winter months. I was really enamored with the Agra Fort, and I spent a very long time there. Although it was not as scenic or worldly renowned for its beauty as the Taj, I think that the fort impressed me more. I eventually paid my tour guide and bid him adieu, as well as saying farewell to the fort. I was now off to see my next stop, the Mausoleum of Emperor Akbar the Great.
I had decided to see this because I was fascinated by the artwork and carvings he commissioned on some of the palaces inside the Agra Fort which so beautifully and geometrically integrated the symbols of the great world religions present in India: Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism, Islam, Sikhism, and Christianity. The ride over to the mausoleum took forever, and the ever growing heat did not help matters. Learning from past mistakes I kept myself well hydrated, but it was still exhausting doing all this hiking around in the heat of the day. The mausoleum was yet another striking example of Mughal architecture. The gardens surrounding it were inhabited by both monkeys and spiral-horned deer, which was a neat thing to see. The mausoleum itself was also very neat. The interior tomb chamber was reached by way of a long, dark passageway, and inside stood a man making prayers to Allah (Akbar, and all of the Mughal Emperors for that matter, were Muslim), which echoed off of the perfectly designed chamber walls. This echo effect was mirrored by more than 50 arches and domes making up the outer colonnade of the mausoleum. I would have loved to stay for longer, but the heat was becoming brutal and I needed respite, since even pouring water on my head was not helping.
Again the ride was very long and even the wind in my face was the enemy, as it blasted me with heat. I just managed to stay in a physically safe condition by pouring more water over my head. I was dropped off at the Amarvilas again, where I quickly found the bar, sat down, opened both my book and a cold bottle of water, and relaxed in the glory o modern air conditioning technology. I stayed there for about an hour, before moving to the nearby reading lounge. I was pretty sure that I was done for the day, as far as sightseeing was concerned. I had hoped to perhaps find a place at this resort to lie down and take a short nap, but the only option available would have been to rent a room, which was so cost prohibitive as to be laughable. While I sat in the lounge, reading the excellent book, “The Language Instinct” by Steven Pinker of MIT and Harvard, new hotel arrivals continuously shuffled past me to the balcony, where they all inevitably were left speechless by the view of the Taj Mahal across the floodplains of the river. It wasn’t so much the noise they produced that annoyed me as their insistence on opening the balcony door and letting all the cool air escape into the Agra evening.
I stuck around and had dinner at the hotel. As I was having a somewhat early dinner, especially by Indian standards, no one else was in the restaurant. This meant that the service I received was top class, and the food was excellent, although relatively cheap. I had some wonderful risotto with feta cheese, artichoke hearts, spinach, and kalamata olives. The chef even came out of the kitchen to check on how I was enjoying his meal. After dinner I got an autorickshaw back over to the Agra Cantonment Railway Station, as I had no more excuses to hang around a hotel I wasn’t staying at.
I arrived a little early, about 2 hours before my train was scheduled to leave for Delhi, and so I wandered around the station to see what my options were. After thorough examination, I surmised that my platform offered neither AC nor mental stimulation, so I left it. I next came across a sort of hotel on the second floor of the station. I inquired about renting a room for two hours, but upon seeing the room, which had very odd stains on the musty bed and rats crawling across the floor, I decided it was not for me and left it. I finally found the 1st class waiting lounge, which my ticket entitled me to as a foreigner.
For a return journey to Delhi on the same day, which had been very desirable, I had been forced to purchase a higher cost ticket. This meant that on the ride back my seat was larger and my meal was better. Other than that, there was little to no difference between the classes on the train. The change in class did not mean, for instance, that I would stand out any less in my whiteness, that children would not be shrieking, or that I would be able to nap, thanks to one person’s insistence on playing all their various ringtones for nearly the whole 2 hour ride.
We pulled into the Delhi Station at 10:30. I was a little nervous about being out in Delhi that late at night, but it was a needless worry. I quickly found a cab, who took me back to the hotel, albeit with a few directions from yours truly since the place is a tad hard to find. Seeing Delhi at night was totally different, as more people were out on the streets, enjoying the cooler temperatures, now only in the 90’s. Back at the hotel I spoke with the family, watched a little soccer, and then promptly passed out.
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