Taj Mahal

I got up at 6 am to leave for Agra. It was one of the most irritating days ever. The vendors and guides were really frustrating. On the way in the private car, we stopped for a toll. I had the windows down and there were all these hawkers on the median, and a man with several monkeys on leashes. Several vendors came to the window trying to sell me something, so I just covered my head with my transparent dupatta, and closed my eyes. After a few minutes I open my eyes to see a damn monkey sitting in the half opened window, and freaked out. I cursed the monkey man, shoed the monkey out of the window, and rolled it up despite the heat. I admit, now yes it sounds funny, but I was really mad at the time. Monkeys are just not something you mess with, even on leashes, and I don't want them anywhere near me. I keep remembering the woman who had to get a face transplant because a chimp attacked her, no these weren't chimps, but, un uh, you get those monkeys away from me.

When we finally reached Agra, the driver already had a guide waiting for me. Luckily he wasn't pushy and said, “I understand, you can't take your time if you are with a guide.” Which is exactly the reason that I didn't want a guide, so they directed me across the street to a hotel restaurant for breakfast. But this place was ridiculous. If you order toast, it should automatically come with butter, right? If not, you are ordering BREAD. Well, no, if you wanted toast or jam, each cost an additional Rs 20. If this were typical to India, I would say ok, but I have never had to pay extra for butter for my toast! After I complained to the waiter, I guess he decided he'd much rather hover over the two Malaysian girls where I heard him exclaim, “I love Malaysian people.”

The car could not take me all the way to the Taj Mahal, so I had to take an auto the rest of the way there. Unfortunately it seems that Ahmedabad is one of the few places that actually uses meters on their autos. The first autowala I asked wanted Rs. 200. Then I asked him how far it was to the Taj. One kilometer, one! That would have cost Rs. 10 in Ahmedabad, so I bargained him down to Rs. 20 and felt satisfied. The narrow road was packed with traffic already at this early time, and it wasn't all just to see the Taj. So then the auto could go no further, and I had to walk the last block, conveniently through a narrow alley filled with vendors. As it was the summer, and most foreigners have enough sense not to go sightseeing in India at this time, I was maybe the only foreigner, and the vendors wouldn't leave me alone. One young man kept hounding me to come in his shop, and as he tried to sell me some trinket, he quoted prices. As we passed a group of young guys sitting outside a shop, they got into the action, too, and one yelled out the price, “10,000 rupees!” Which comes to over $200, and is only a little less than the four of us altogether pay for our total monthly apartment rent. As I am not some foreigner who doesn't know the price of things, I stopped in my tracks, turned around with my mouth hanging open, and shouted, “Aap pagal hain!” Meaning you are crazy! At this everyone in the vicinity burst out laughing, and I stomped away. However, this utterance quickly spread down the street because as I exited the Taj and walked back down the street, and vendors where still trying to sell their wares, I heard whispers in Hindi of “she knows Hindi.” If “aap pagal hain” is what it took, so be it.

But before I could get to the entrance on my way in, a boy of around 8 or 9 tried to convince me to stop in his relative's shop. He was such a good salesman, I couldn't help promising that I would stop at his shop on the way out, and he showed me where to purchase my ticket and get my complimentary pair of shoe covers that only foreigners get with their Rs. 750 ticket compared to the Indians' Rs 20 ticket. As I was able to then keep my shoes on while walking over the scalding hot white marble, I was very thankful for the white tissue booties.