Going to Agrrraa!

Today we got an eight-hour experience with the absolute craziness that is Indian driving. You hear about all the crazy driving in various places around the world, but it's different when you're actually in the car and you barrel toward a dump truck/rickshaw/bicyclist, just missing them by an inch. Our driver Ahmed, as the other drivers on the road, had his hand constantly on the horn, since here, it's polite to honk at other drivers, for example, to let them know that you are passing them, when they're in your way, or when you're about to hit them! Sometimes, it seemed like he honked for no reason! Laurel and I were picked up this morning at 7 by a tour van for Agra to visit the Taj Mahal. The drive was really half the fun because we saw more of India and its people today than before. For one thing, we were told by a TLM person that the drive would be smooth, since we'd be on a highway all the way there. However, it was a 120 mi journey that took over 4 hrs! Every several miles or so we'd hit major traffic, meaning not only a jumble of cars but also rickshaws, camels pulling carts, wandering cows, bicycles and people dashing into the road. The tour van also picked up a couple of other passengers--an American man from CT and a woman from Austria. It was good having the fellow travelers, as they brought good conversation and humor! The driver used the word "my" in front of various places or objects, such as "this is my temple" or "this is my resort. this is my company" when we stopped for food. It was only later when he said "this is my lunch. You will come here later" in front of a fancy hotel, that we realized he meant the word as a general term NOT as a possessive. We were probably being ugly foreigners by laughing, but we couldn't help it and it only made us like him more! He spoke much better English than any of us could speak Hindi or the other languages he probably spoke.

The Taj Mahal probably deserves a post all by itself. It was breathtaking, but too postcard perfect. I wished I could remember the details from my college class when we studied the architecture and history. Walking out from all that grandeur, I felt a twinge of guilt as the kids and paraplegic beggars hawked things for money. The natural response is to give, of course, as they tried all kinds of tactics to get us to sympathize but we were advised not to. I wonder if the money would actually go to them or to some other person who takes advantage of them. Even if the beggars make a "decent" living here, none of them eat more than their fill for sure. Everyone except the tourists seem malnourished---the kids, the cows, the dogs....all skin and ribs. Laurel read from a book that half of the kids in India under 3 yrs old are malnourished. I'm not surprised after today, but it makes me cry.