Agra

Any trip to India just wouldn't be complete without a stop at the Taj Mahal, so we had to see Agra for a few days. The Taj was worth the steep entrance fee but we had plans to have a picnic on the lawn and listen to the iPod music while watching the sun set. No such luck. At the entrance, a security guard had a great time going through our bags and removing our pocket knife, iPod, cell phone, food, candy, pen, and flashlight. She also seemed curious about what foreigners carry and had a great time going through my items like it was show and tell day.







So there was no chance of a musical picnic for us dreamers. We braved the crowds and Dean purposely made me pose with these fake marble workers so I could pretend that I was repairing the Taj by mixing some plaster and holding a small marble piece. Of course there is a donation wanted for this pointless photo opportunity. But Dean got a great picture of me scowling at the camera in digust. But otherwise this was a gorgeous place and the marble had such a pure glow to it. It was easy to sit there and watch it for a few hours.



[Mising Image]



There wasn't really that much to see in Agra besides the Taj so we took a day trip to Fatephur Sikri, an abandoned palace built on a hillside with not enough water. It was a bumpy bus ride out there and we saw many black bears along the way. They were being fed along the roadside foliage with someone walking them with a chain. We never found out why they were there but we suspect they are killed later and sold for expensive medicine. [Dean's note: I don't know who this "we" is, but watching several bear-tricks suggests to me that the bears are for entertainment, at least at first.]



When we arrivied, we were plagued by a few people who wanted to be our guides for the day. The conversation always starts out innocently enough: "Hello sir! From which country?" and then they just begin pointing out the totally obvious landmarks, at which point we have to say that we're not interested in his services as a guide. "Please, sir, only 150 rupees, I am a good guide..." After repeating yourself about ten times, the price drops to 20 rupees but we really do not want a guide and have quit responding to him at all and only speaking Latvian with each other. Then he just stands around and has a conversation with himself. "So 20 rupees is okay sir? Okay. 20 rupees. It is so little." This charade goes on forever because in the end he hopes we will just give him money to go away. But of course at this point it is a matter of pride to uphold our word and not encourage them to play this game with other tourists. It is as if we are made of gold and just dying to give away the cash. And these guys would never pull this stuff on any of the Indians.



After fending off many of these wishful guides, we made it into the main area and realized that we should have found a guide! (Official ones did exist but bargaining would have been necessary again.) There was a lot to see and not much explanation provided. But it is also fun to explore things on your own and just listen in on the other people's guides. Ha ha! And some people were obviously not happy with their guides and could have read more in their tour books.



Like most Emperors, Akbar, who once lived there, had a spot for all his women and secret passages for him to make secret midnight visits to them. A mosque area was adjacent to this and here, like all mosques, you must remove your shoes. So we have been accustomed to having very dirty socks.







The remainder of our Agra visit consisted of eating good food and trying to recharge the prepaid mobile number. But, not surprisingly, every store owner wanted to give us an inflated price of the recharge rate. We realized very quickly that any price that a store owner writes down on paper is not the correct rate. Only after we sat around and yawned a bit, did they start to show us the better rates. And once we made for the door, then the real numbers started appearing and we saw the fees were actually printed on the phone card. Such an effort for a simple transaction but once again, when they see tourists, they try to get as much as possible.



And we couldn't walk down the street more than 10 meters before someone would stop in their auto or cycle rickshaw and ask us if we wanted a ride. It is hard to figure out a friendly hello versus a sales hello so sometimes we have to ignore them all! But we have learned that this is the norm in the towns that are accustomed to loads of tourists. Ah, the work of being on vacation!