Taj Mahal money shot

About a hundred years ago – or at least that's what it seems like now – I told my cousin Adam that I wanted to hike across the entire USA. He's always been one to challenge me on a lot of fronts and even though I was probably 13 or 14 years old he said something along the lines of, "that's a very materialistic goal." I couldn't understand, really so he explained that by setting travel goals that were more about "having" the experience rather than experiencing the experience I would really just be collecting another object. Another thing to brag that I own. Well, I may be guilty of that again.

Yesterday I went to the Taj Mahal.

It's summer here in India, and the heat is turned up full tilt. It's like 110 degrees in the shade. And in Agra – where the Taj stands – it's even hotter. A few days ago I flew up here to Delhi from Bangalore to meet up with some IBM colleagues and get a better appreciation of how our business runs – particularly at IBM Daksh. But I have the weekend to myself, so I made the trip. Or in the words of my colleague, Vibha, "you're in India so you check that box."

On Friday night I worked late but then headed to my classmate, Geeti's house for dinner with her, her dad and her brother. It was her brother's birthday, so they had decorated the house with balloons and other birthday stuff. Their house is amazing and I'm regretting not snapping a few photos – especially of the model of the house and Geeti's ancient piano. Her dad, SK is an architect – apparently of some renown and obvious of great skill. Their home is amazing. The two of them kindy helped me sort out a driver for the following day (I had called Hertz and they wanted fully 2x the amount.) Anyway, Geeti, if you're reading this – thanks so much for your hospitality! Dinner was terrific as was hearing your rendition of Nivana's hits on your funky old piano (a cross between Old Time, upright-piano saloon music and New Age) – I'm serious that you should bring that to the stage in NYC.

So at six in the morning on Saturday my driver, Tara Chand and I got the trip underway. It's about 250 kilometers to Agra – and this is not like driving in the US. It's 250 kilometers of beeping, honking, swerving, dodging cows and bicycles, overtaking trucks, desert heat, toll-checks with machine-gun-clad guards, small town toughs with bears and monkeys on a leash…you get the idea. It ain't I-5.

It took us more than four hours to get there and when we did we picked up a guide. I should step back though and say that Tara was just about the most pleasant guy you could want to meet. He has a kind face and a quick smile. His English is fragmented, but we managed to communicate. He told me that he's from a small village in Punjab and he's recently married at 26. He had a great big smile when he talked about his wife saying "My wife beautiful. My luck very very good!" We talked about arranged marriages verses "love marriages" a bit (his term). He seems pretty darn happy and his goals right now are to save enough money to buy his own car (and thus be his own boss) and then in a year or two have a child.

So the transport company has a deal with a certain guide agency and Tara told me up front that the guide is free if I am unhappy with his service. 100% based on tips – not happy? No tip. It was all very low pressure and I was happy to have it sorted out for me. I was also relived when the guide spoke very clear and precise English. He told me he's been doing this for 14 years and speaks about 15 languages. Yow! There was a pretty long line to get tickets and to enter, but the guide got us around all that and straight through to the security check – which had a scary moment when the guy in front of me suddenly reached to withdraw something from his back and spooked the guards (it turned out to be a scarf). The guide – whose name I don't recall now – explained to me in detail the whole history behind who built the Taj and when. I won't recount it here because you can always go to Wikipedia or hell, visit the Taj yourself. At any rate, I recommend having a guide as he made it a more meaningful experience for me.

Funny thing coming here at this time of year. I was one of the only white guys around. Almost everyone there was Indian. I guess it's just too hot for foreigners. And again, people kept asking to pose for pictures with me. Funny…at first I thought they wanted me to snap a photo of them – you know the typical tourist question: "do you mind taking a picture?" and then they hand you the camera to snap a photo of them – but here they would ask the same question and then swing their arm around me. It was pretty funny and ultimately made me feel a little better about snapping pictures of the interesting folks I saw – heck, turnabout is fair play.

Right, so as you enter the tremendous courtyard outside of the Taj you see an enormous and elaborate gate. It's all inlay work with black and white marble and writings from the Koran. As I approached it, I could see the Taj framed in its massive archway. Stepping through that threshold into the main area of the Taj is a really transforming moment. You think you're ready for it because you've seen the postcards and the snapshots and the movies…but you're not.

Even with a line up of tourists posing for pictures in front of me, my jaw dropped and my breath was taken away. The Taj Mahal lives up to the hype. It is literally stunning.

It's hard to describe the hour I spent walking in the buildings and gardens around the Taj. The main building is flanked by a mosque and a guest house. The interior of the Taj is absolutely covered with elaborate stone work – both carvings and inlay – all wrought by hand in the 1600s. It took some 22 years to complete with the work of 20,000 people. My guide showed me the details, explained to me some fun stories (for example the four towers adjacent to the Taj are tilted slightly outward so that if there's an earthquake they'll fall away from the main structure) and he led me around the gardens all the while carefully explaining the significance of designs, the symmetry and the symbols.

And so yeah, now I own that experience. Maybe it's just another thing I have on the shelf, but even if that's the case I'm glad I came.

Speaking of things

Next stop – marble emporium! Of course, our next stop was a shop where the proprietor proudly explained to me the process for manufacturing all the marble table tops, boxes and trinkets followed by a tour of the show room. Um, $90 marble elephant anyone? Anyway, it was a super soft sell and they were all very polite when I said no thanks. It was actually kind of interesting to see the guys working on the marble – though I have got to think that there are a few guys doing this by hand for exhibition purposes and an army of people elsewhere in a factory equipped with machines.

Fatehpur Sikri

So SK and Geeti recommended I make the extra stop at Fatehpur Sikri while I'm out in Agra. See, Agra used to be the capital and emperor Akbar (whose son built the Taj) built this mega palace there. Unfortunately, there wasn't enough water around, so they all had to pack it in after living there for only about 16 years. The structure still stands and is a testament to fantastic architecture…and hubris.

While walking around the palace and adjoining mosque truly delighted me, the trip there was really unpleasant. I don't know if it's because we're in the off season or what, but the roads to Fatehpur Sikri are a little dangerous. And I don't mean potholes and donkeys (though there was no shortage of those.) As we approached the palace (and understand that we are at this point way the heck out in the sticks about 30 minutes from Rajistan) Tara reached over and locked my door and said something along the lines of "Keeping the door closed. Bad men. Dangerous men try to take it. Take you." No, he wasn't kidding. About ninety seconds later a couple dudes jumped in front of the car and tried to stop us and get the doors open. Tara swerved the car, kicking up a cloud of dust and pushing the men aside as we peeled around a corner and up the steeply curving hillside road. The same thing happened again about a half kilometer later. At this point I was pretty freaked out.

So when we got to the parking – almost completely empty of cars, just a few locals hanging around – he got out and told me to stay inside with the door locked. He found a guide who seemed somewhat official and advised me how much to pay him. Anyway, it was all a little tense...and the tension wasn't over.

The guide was actually pretty good – and I'm glad ultimately that we brought him along. He explained some of the rooms and areas of the palace that would have just been big empty places to me without his comments. He then handed me off to his "brother" for the tour of the mosque grounds. His brother was also ok as a guide, though his English wasn't quite as fluid. Naturally they tried to sell me a bunch of crap and I declined. But then after about 40 minutes of the tour I thought better of it and asked him to bring me over to his family's stall so I could buy a little soapstone carving for my niece. I found bargaining with these guys hilarious. They basically asked me for about $100 for a little soapstone carving (which I eventually bought for $6…probably still too much!) and they wanted to barter for my sunglasses etc etc.

The guide brought me behind the main mosque building to a cemetery within the building's walls. Strangely enough, there were several children playing back here. It looked like they had toy cars tied to strings, which they were pulling around the graves. They all stared at me like I was alien. Which, I suppose, I am.

Anyway, I took a look inside of the white mosque building where there is a holy tomb 30 feet below. A bunch of India folks were genuflecting and bowing and singing there – and again, I was the only white guy around. Even so, everyone was tolerant of my presence -- or at least seemed to take little notice of me. Tara wanted another photo with me in front of the building and reached out to shake my hand for the shot. I got his address so I'll mail him a copy. He really saved my neck several times, so that's the least I could do.

Speaking of which, when we left I gave the guide the agreed amount (about $5) plus an extra 100 rupees (about$2). He seemed upset and went to get his brother. Oh brother, indeed. Tara told me again to get in the car and lock the doors. He steped out and a small crowd quickly formed as they argued. He popped his head in and confirmed with me that I had told him the amount in advance and had actually paid more than the agreed amount. Obviously, I couldn't understand the conversation going on outside, but the crowd quickly turned against the two brothers and they were shooed away much to my relief. They'd tried to shake me down for more money but Tara made my case for me and they stepped away from the car and let us go. Again, a little scary there.

The ride back was uneventful – if you can call a drive through the India countryside uneventful! Tara took us a back route around Agra so I got a chance to see rural, rural India. It was just beautiful, and different and eye opening. At one point we picked up a father and his son and gave them a lift a few miles down the road. The towns were so small that the children didn't even beg at the windows – they just peered in and looked at my shoes. They seemed utterly surprised when I smiled at them – and they smiled back.

So that's it – my trip to the Taj. Life changing? Maybe, maybe not. But I wonder about Tara, I think he'll be ok. He's so hard working and earnest. I saw him giving a beggar some rupees when we walked to the monument. The least I could do was give him an outsized tip. Oh, and send those photos. On the off chance that you read this, Tara…thank you.

Oh, and anyone esle... if you're heading to Delhi and need a great driver, let me know and I'll get you Tara's contact details.