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.

My last night in Bangalore

A long day of work, but afterwards a little shopping. I bought some shirts for myself at a place called Anohki as well as some gifts for family and friends. We stopped in a jewelery store where the proprietor showed us a huge, bejeweled box. There are real rubies and diamonds in there – he said it took two years to build and that the last person to buy something like this from him was Vladmir Putin! I don't doubt him, either, because the hotel where the shop is located is the place for foreign dignitaries to stay. In all likelihood, this would be where Vladmir shops.

Then drinks with Sukanya, Deepak and some other nice folks from IBM. We went to an English Pub-style place at the Leela hotel. It was fun to have some drinks, but I was pretty tired at that point. And I'm unaccostmed to cigarette smoke after all this time of being a non-smoker in a non-smoking city. Then dinner at the Chinese place in the same building which was excellent.

I think I'd like to come back to South India again – there are a bunch of places I'd like to see yet – Goa and Kerala for example. Who knows, maybe I'll even come back to India for IBM again.

Bad stomach, bad vibe

Last night's post -- which I admit was a bit dour -- was brought on at least in part by what turned out to be a horendous stomach ache. I woke up this morning in terrible condition and didn't leave my room until the hotel doctor brought some medicine. I slept until nearly noon.

I guess if you travel to India you've got to expect to get sick at least once. The Indian folks I've met say the same thing happens when they come to the US. I only hope it passes soon.

In the mean time, I hope you get a chance to see some of the pictures from my weekend in Mysore. It was really awesome.

Grand illusion

Driving home from work I was struck by what an amazing, grand illusion America is. It's a dream built on a wish built on an illusion built on a great big pile of unthinking violence. This bubble is due to burst. The dream is built on credit -- and the loan is just itching to come due. I found myself thinking that I just want to come home. To be somewhere quiet, clean and well organized. And this is coming from a guy staying in a five star hotel! And what, New York City is quiet, clean and well organized? By comparision: yes. Here the noise and smoke and chaos of the street is complete. It's an all-inclusive anti-resort. And this is how most of the world lives. It makes suburban, bourgeoise America -- my homeland, my roots -- seem perverse and surreal.

And so what to do about it? What to do about the great inequity? Well, I will learn from my friend Dan Goldsmith and do what all I can to not judge. The way of life here is different from mine, but not subordinate. And then what? Reserve judgement, be open, be respectful...but then?

A month or so ago I went to see a play set in AIDs-stricken Africa. A white British woman -- the wife of a semi-do-gooder businessman -- is thunderstruck by the suffering. Her husbands asks what she plans to do and in an impassioned speech she declares, "I can bear witness." From the moment I heard those words I have been deeply affected by them. I can bear witness.

It's hard to be here in this context -- working for IBM, being a white-shirted Westerner...here. It's contrary to my traveller's heart. I want to blend. Mix in and stay somewhere on the edge of town. Maybe those days are over for me -- an old fogie at 31.

And so I had a fleeting impulse to change my flight and high-tail it home to the comfort of my East Village flat. Rolling Rocks at my fave bar, pizza by delivery, potable water on tap. My friends have said I'm too sensitive. Ok ok. Maybe it's true. I am affected by the world around me -- and have chosen to immerse myself in it. So, no. I'll stick around and follow through.

But I'm not making any promises beyond my trip to Delhi next week. I could see myself putting my head into the sand. Get a country home and drink in the clean, forest-green air for the rest of my life. Send a check to UNICEF or Greenpeace but meanwhile life like the rest of America -- on a loan that ultimately future generations will pay for me. For us.

Weekend break

Up until Friday I was pretty much 100% consumed by work on the IBM event. By all measures, that seems to have gone well so I took the weekend to relax and explore a bit. I had to work late on Friday night, so I didn't do much after having dinner with some IBM colleagues. I caught the first few minutes of the World Cup match in a hotel bar, but then bailed out. Football/soccer/whatever is not exactly my thing. It's not even that big here – but people are crazy about cricket.

On Saturday I awoke early and hired a car to take me to Mysore. Mysore is a city about 180km (3hr drive) from Bangalore where there are several site well worth seeing. First of all, I visited the Tippu Sultan's garden palace. Alas, photography is not permitted inside, so I have some exterior shots. But the narrative murals on the walls inside were breathtaking! I think the décor within the building dates to the late 18th century as it depicts battles with British troops. There were also some cool artifacts from the age of the Sultan such as coins, swords, clothing and portraits of him and his sons and advisors. The grounds surrounding the palace were extraordinarily sculpted. Several Indian teenagers came up to me and wanted to pose for a photo with me. I guess they don't see a lot of white dudes.

Mysore is known for its silk and sandalwood products. I resisted the temptation to buy a couple silk shirts but I did pick up some silk scarves and wall hangings. Really beautiful, hand-made materials.

I stopped by St. Philomena's church. It was interesting to see the local take on Christianity. The Indian color palate and artistic sensibility manifested in the building itself and the holy items on display creating a hybrid (and frankly, somewhat unpleasant) aesthetic.

After that I went to the palace of the Maharaja. One word to describe it: whoa! Again, photography was disallowed inside, but I got some cool exterior shots. Inside the palace was room after room of ornate decorations on a larger-than-life scale. Marble floors, murals, stained glass, colonnades…the list goes on. The place was clearly designed to convey the Maharaja's majesty and power. In the main ball room there was a kind of multi-hued glass cupola that deserved its own museum. Since the floors are also ornate works of art, all visitors (and the guards too!) are required to check their shoes at the door. So my memory of the visit is defined by the feel of cool stone on the bottom of my bare feet.

Following the visit to the palace I had a short walk through the vegetable and fruit market. This was truly eye-popping! The colors of that market have left an indelible impression on my mind's eye. So varied and beautiful and deep. There were people selling everything – mostly farmers from the countryside with one or two items on offer, but also people selling spices, house wares, and dyes of all colors.

Before heading back to Bangalore, I drove up to Chamundi hill, where there is a beautiful temple honoring the Goddess Chamundeshwari overlooking the city of Mysore and the surrounding valleys. Outside of the temple tourists, locals and people selling souvenirs and holy items mixed with the monkeys who walked around freely eating bananas. My driver, Manju, was kind enough to take me into the temple itself to do a puja, or blessing. There was a pretty long wait to get in there as dozens of adherents waited to do their blessing in the temple's inner sanctum. But it was worth it – I caught a brief glimpse of the way at least one religion is practiced here. Manju kindly led me through the ceremonies and the monks were friendly too – even putting the red mark on my forehead denoting that I had made a puja.

The drive there and back – 3hrs each way – was also fascinating. We passed through several dozen small towns, each with its own look. We also passed a series of enormous stone outcrops. And yes, I saw plenty of cows walking around un-tethered in the streets.

Saturday night I met up with a fellow named James in the hotel lounge who's also traveling here for business. He's around my age and so I invited him out to see if we could check out some of the local pubs, which we did. We went to a place called the Night Watchman, which I think was a pretty good choice. We were definitely the only white guys in there and had a chance to chat with some locals. The music was a fun mix of Indian favorites and classics form the west – who knew Queen was so popular here?

After a couple rounds there we walked around MG Road a bit until we found another place (don't remember its name) and had another drink there. We got into a conversation with two young local guys who each work at IT companies too and ended up talking past midnight. What a world of difference – one world for HP and the other for Dell. The one from Dell was really keen on moving to the US and starting college. At any rate, it was fascinating to get to chat with some guys on the other side of the Ethernet cable. The ride home – in another autorickshaw – was great fun. This driver had equipped his little open-air three-wheeler with a huge stereo, which was pounding out Indian disco. It was a wild blur of a ride through the Bangalore night.

Sunday was a relaxation day. All that running around (for IBM the last couple weeks and for touristy reasons on Saturday) pretty much wiped me out. So I slept in late on Sunday and then went to Sukanya and Shati's for lunch. They were so kind to invite me over to their home. We had a fascinating conversation ranging from religion to family to politics to economics and beyond and then had a deliscious home-made India meal. Folks here eat with their hands and somehow manage to do it without dripping a drop. Meanwhile I was making a pretty big mess of it! (I'm grateful that they offered me a spoon as I have yet to master the art of eating curry gracefully without!)

After lunch Sukanya and I took her niece, Ash to the hotel swimming pool where we played and splashed a bit to break the heat.

Speaking of the heat, it's waaaay milder here than I expected. And it really hasn't rained at all. It's been in the 80s or 90s and breezy – perfect weather, really. Though I'm told that I'll get to experience true India heat when I hit Delhi later this week.

Well, lunch break is nearly done, so I'm going to get back to work. Thanks for leaving all the nice comments!

Weird party, nice din din

The IBM event was just about a complete smash hit. Which event? The one that made the front page of just about every newspaper in the world. Here's a good write up in Businessweek.

I'm going to write more about it, but for the moment I'll just post a picture and a few words. I am completely exhausted. We had a bit of a party last night (at which numerous high-level execs were on the dance floor -- what good sports!) and todayI worked, but I took it kind of easy. But tomorrow I'll be back in the office. The great news is that I've booked a flight to Delhi so that I can meet my colleagues up there as well as get a chance to see another Indian city. I'm planning on doing a bit of sight seeing on the weekends. This weekend I'm headed to Mysore -- which is a city, not a dermatological condition.

The photo is from dinner tonight. Very good food, but I was so tired I probably wasn't the best conversationalist. Not to mention that I spent a couple hours reading Chomsky today, which put me in a very anti-imperialist mood. It's hard to be here of all places and read politically charged stuff like that. It's like having your eyes forcibly opened while you're already having an eye-opening experience.

If anything Imperial Ambitions just makes me want to delve into some more poli-sci classes at the New School. So it's motivating...not just frustrating. Though flipping through Time magazine after reading Chomsky just about made me want to puke.

Bull Temple and a meal with friends

This morning when I awoke I stepped onto the lovely little porch outside of my room. To my surprise an animal went scurrying across. I walked after it to see what it was and when I looked around it sat there waiting for me with his head turned back -- he seemed just as curoous about me. I asked about it later and my friend said it was a bandicoot. A bandicoot! I guess that like a 20lb rat. There were also some cool snails hanging out on the porch.

Seeing as yesterday I spent the entire day in a windowless conference room, I figured I'd get out and explore a little bit today. One of my friends from IBM who lives here in Bangalore kindly offered to take me around a little bit today, so we met up on Muhatma Ghandi road and went into a few shops. First stop was an old bookstore where I bought some stationary and postcards, then on to a government-run crafts store. Funny thing how they've got about 11 people working in each section with mostly nothing to do. They also seem to have designed the store for maximum inneficiency (and simultaneously maximum job creation) -- an echo of India's socialist history, I suppose.

From there we went on a walk through an enormous park that my friend called "Bangalore's Central Park." Only thing is, there's so much vehicular traffic through the park that it is fairly choked from exhaust despite its verdant beauty.

After our walk through the park we met up with her husband for lunch -- an authentic and delicious Southen Indian meal served on palm leaves. I did my best to eat only with my right hand and not using utensils except to serve the food. I used about 4 napkins for every one that my hosts used. Clearly, I have a lot of learning to do.

The three of us then piled into an auto-rickshaw, which is a three-wheeled, open-air motor scooter operated by a driver for metered rates. Whoa! What a ride. These drivers must have no fear whatsoever -- and then the exhaust that's everywhere. Wow. All of these autos are two-stroke engines, meaning they get great gas mileage, but they spew out a ton of thick, black smoke. Just being here is like smoking half a pack of Camels a day.

We went to the Bull Temple, which was absolutely fascinating. You take your shoes off and make a little donation and then wave smoke into your face. It seems like the ladies put a little red ink on their foreheads (I didn't see men do that, but maybe some do.) Then we walked around an enormous stone bull. I didn't take a picture because it seemed like it would be disrespectful, but I have some photos from the exterior, which is very impressive. All of those statues are characters -- some good, some bad -- from Indian mythology, which I think they call the Vedas.

We went for a walk through a fabulous park -- this one was way more serene and quiet and lush -- and then headed back to the hotel. I think all that exhaust really exhausted me! I took a nap and then got a little work done before dinner.

Dinner tonight was at the poolside barbeque here at the hotel. Amazing food and a great company. About 12 people from IBM from all over the world. Such a delight to be in such diverse company.

A ride through Bangalore

This morning I took my first ride through Bangalore. Whoa. Totally incredible place. Wall to wall people, cars, bikes, dogs, kids, people, auto-rickshaws, trucks, carts, people, people, people!

I really just went from the hotel to an office and back, but the driver was kind enough to bring me past the parliament building. So here's a photo.

I think I could fall in love with this country just based on that one hour car ride. I found everything absolutely fascinating. I passed a wall decorated with tiles depicting the Indian Gods....and mixed in with them was a single tile portraying the crucifixtion.

Dad's birthday

So this past weekend my dad and sister were in town. What a blast! it was his birthday, so Shayna and I took him to a deliscious dinner at Village on West 9th street -- highly recommend! Teresa (my former roomie) turned me on to the place a couple years ago. Totally wonderful food, excellent service, very little pretension whatsoever.

What'd we do with Dad? Well, we went to Upright Citizen's Brigade theater for some improv, walked around SoHo, met up with Sarah for a weird Russian dinner, saw Shining City, went bicycling up and down the West Side, took the Staten Island Ferry and saw the new X-Men movie. Phew!

Oh, and did I mention that I am in Bangalore, India right now? More on that later...