I don’t know what happened. Something bad. I typed all day today on the bus, producing the text for today’s blog posting. We didn’t get checked into our Jaipur hotel until 10:30 PM. It’s been a long day.

I boot up my iPad and all today’s typing is gone. Vanished.

I normally type on my iPhone and, through cloud magic, it shows up on my iPad for final editing and posting. This time, neither my iPhone nor iPad has anything more recent than yesterday’s text.

So here’s a much abbreviated version of what we did. With any sort of luck I’ll be able to post some pictures. And maybe someday, for my own benefit, I’ll come back here and provide more detail.

I’m bummed.

1.    Visited in the pouring rain a palace complex built by the third Mughal emperor. He built it to celebrate the birth of his first, long-awaited, son who was born there. He moved his entire court here but after only 14 years he decided the water supply wasn’t adequate and moved court back to Agra.

2.    Visited a step well, built my Hindus in the 9th century. It provided artesian water for people in this town in this arid part of India.

3.    Visited an organization that trains women to do block printing – designs on fabric that can be made into clothing and other items. We bought a ton.

4.    Had a roof top dinner overlooking Jaipur and a full moon.

That’s it in a nutshell. The trip was interesting with lots of farm land. Five or six hours of driving, plus stops. Lots of millet being grown in the fields. Lots of cows wandering in the streets and highways (they’re sacred here; Burger King serves only chicken). Four elephants on the road coming into Jaipur.

There’s a ton more and I’ll try to redo it before I forget it.

The Taj Mahal, India’s #1 tourist attraction, is more of a monument to love than to history. The short story: The fifth Mogul emperor, Shah Jahan, had three wives (Islam permits four wives) but the first two failed to produce an heir. He found the third, a commoner, Mumtaz Mahal, at a local bazar. He fell in love and she produced 14 kids in 19 years. When she hemorrhaged from the 14th, she instructed her doctors to summon Shah Jahan so she could give him her final wishes.

Shah Jahan was away fighting a battle but immediately returned to hear her wishes: that he care for her 14 kids, that he demonstrate to the world his undying love for her and that he provide her with a resting place in heaven.

He did all three, caring for her kids (although sibling rivalry led to unhappiness later on) and he built the Taj Mahal as a testament to his love and as a place as close to heaven on earth as he could. He also went into mourning and never remarried.

The Taj Mahal is perfectly symmetrical structure, built of marble with nine sides. It’s flanked on one side by a red limestone mosque and, to preserve symmetry, an identical building on the other side which served as a guest house. There’s an elaborate garden full of fruit trees (and, these days, full of monkeys). The Taj Mahal is truly picture perfect and lives up to its reputation.

We visited the Taj Mahal this morning, leaving the hotel at 5 AM – to catch the sunrise and to avoid the crowds – and returning by 9. It was a warm and cloudy day but being early the temps barely made 80 by the time we returned.

The only non symmetrical part of the Taj Mahal is that the tomb of Mumtaz Mahal is placed smack dab in the middle of the dual-domed central chamber while her husband’s tomb (Shah Jahan’s) lies next to it. Kills the symmetry.

And that leads us to the kids.

I’m not going to get down in the weeds on the Mughal Empire (you’re welcome) but recall that they were the big thing, kingship-wise, in India during the 16th and 17th centuries – the era where Muslims from away had taken over much of the subcontinent.

The third and fourth Mughal emperors, that would be Shah Jahan’s grandfather and father, built a really big fort not too far from where Shah Jahan had the Taj Mahal built. We visited the so-called Red Fort this morning after breakfast at the hotel, leaving at 10:30.

The fort features an extensive defensive design. It has two formidable walls, an outer mote containing crocodiles and an inner dry moat housing tigers. The entryway is a maze to discourage those who made it through the moats and over the walls. Then there’s a ramp leading upwards into the inter-sanctum, down which it was possible to roll boulders to squash any who made it that far.  Shah Jahan, in addition to building the Taj Mahal, saw to the refurbishing of the Red Fort during his reign. An impressive structure, reminiscent of European castles of the same era.

Shah Jahan ruled for 30 years. But, as I mentioned yesterday, Indian kings, especially Mughal kings, were frequently usurped by family members. Shah Jahan’s second son came to his dad and said, “Hey dad. You’re getting old. Name me as your successor. I’ve proved myself to be an able warrior on the battlefield and I’m best suited to lead the country.” Shah Jahan replied, “That is true but your brother is the eldest so he’s gonna be the next emperor.”

The second son wasn’t one to take “no” for an answer so he killed his brother, locked his old man up in Red Fort and served his dad with his brother’s head on a platter. Shah Jahan lived as a prisoner in the Red Fort for the remainder of his life – eight years – watching the Taj Mahal being constructed from his palatial prison quarters.

Aurangzeb, ruthless son who became the sixth Mughal emperor, lasted more than 48 years. There’s lots of not-so-subtle details I’ve omitted and probably one or two falsehoods, so use my description with several generous grains of salt.

After the fort most of us opted for a visit to a studio and shop where knotted carpets are made and sold. Actually, most of the work is done by individuals in their homes, preserving an ancient and labor intensive rug making technique. The shop serves as a co-op sales outlet for member-produced carpets. Several of our members purchase very nice carpets. “Shipping is free. Ten days max anywhere in the world.” Who could say no?

We next visited a similar shop where the technique for inlaying minerals and gems are employed to produce things such as table tops, glassware and serving plates. This technique was used in the Mughal palaces and forts, providing ornamental detail to pillars, floors and ceilings. We saw examples of this during our travels today. Palace construction is a thing of the past but the same skills are being preserved in home workshops to produce the items being sold here.

Then back to the hotel about 2:30 for lunch and rest until heading out at 4:30 to see the Baby Taj. The rug shop served us drinks and samosas (filled pastry) so that served me for lunch. Judy, who skipped the optional shop visits, ordered soup from room service.

The Tomb of Itmad-I’d-Daula, or Baby Taj as the guidebooks call it, is a precursor, some say a prototype for the Taj Mahal that came later. Turns out that the 4th Mughal emperor, Janhangir, had a wife, his twentieth, who commissioned the Baby Taj as a mausoleum for her father. Emperor #4 was addicted to opium and wine and so Wife #20, to whom he was devoted, was the power behind the throne so could get pretty much whatever she wanted. The guy buried in the Baby Taj turns out to be the grandfather of the wife for whom the Taj Mahal was built.

The Baby Taj serves as the burial spot not only for the father but also many of his relatives.

The Baby Taj has a form similar to the symmetrical Taj Mahal. It represents a transition from earlier Mughal architecture using red sandstone to the use of white marble with embedded semiprecious stones – the same technology we saw demonstrated earlier at the embedded gem shop.

Rain had begun around 3 PM and continued as light rain during our Baby Taj visit. We drove through the rain to our restaurant but our progress was slowed even more by hundreds of revelers celebrating some sort of holiday – people with painted faces, colorful costumes, motorized and human-drawn floats and music so loud it made your teeth hurt. Jai told us it’s Ganesha

OK, here’s some Hindu god-stuff. Lord Ganesha brings good fortune and makes sure that no hurdles come in the way of your success. Lord Ganesha is welcomed into homes on September 7 and 10 days later, i.e., today, September 17, is sent on his way. I believe “sending him on his way” involves tossing his idol images into a body of water, but don’t quote me on that. Whatever, it involves some really serious partying. I’ve included a few snapshots taken through a rain-soaked bus window to give an idea of the colors and movement  

Lord Ganesha is the child of Lord Shiva and Mata Parvati. Lord Shiva came home from a prolonged absence, found Ganesha spending time with Shiva’s wife. Not realizing Ganesha was his son, he cut off his head. That made Mata Parvati really mad. To appease her, Lord Shiva attached an elephant’s head to Ganesha’s body. Problem solved. I learned all this ten years ago in Nepal so don’t take my word for it; consult an expert.

Tomorrow we leave for Jaipur at 7 AM with a bunch of stops on the way. Even Jai is unsure how we’re going to fit all of it in, but, hey, there’s always the next day. Whatever, we’re having fun, staying healthy and keeping really busy. Sleep? Not so much.

By the way, Reagan pointed out that I said incorrectly in my Earlier post that Jai is from Pakistan  Nothing could be further from the truth  I’ve corrected that post to say:

Our Chief Experience Officer, Jai, is actually NOT from Pakistan. He’s from the city of Udaipur in Rajssthan state in northwest India, not too far from the border with Pakistan  I misheard him and have ordered high voltage hearing aid batteries from Amazon so I don’t make that mistake again  

 

 

One day to gain an appreciation of a sprawling metropolis of 25 million Hindis, Muslims, Sikhs, Buddhist and other religions. A city of traffic, incessant noice, strange odors. A mix of first, second and third-world economies. 

Our first experience today was a brief tour of the Pahargaanj. District market area of New Delhi with out guide, Fukran, representative of the Salaam Baalak Trust. Yeah, sure, a walking tour of a marketplace. Big deal. Done that in lots of places. But never with a tour guide who, at 9 years of age, left his abusive home and abusive school Kolkata in Bengal State to live on the streets of Delhi. He climbed a tree, jumped over a wall, walked several miles to the train station and somehow boarded a train to Delhi. “I thought I could become a Bollywood movie star,” dreamed the nine-year old.

Nine years old. Living on a railroad platform. Hustling bottles and cans for recycling money. Can you imagine? I can’t. 

After a year he was taken in by the Salaam Baalak Trust, given food, housing and education. But not at first. A street urchin friend told him, “Don’t go with that social worker. He’ll eat you!”  “Hey, I was only 10. What did I know?” The social worker persisted, bringing him cookies and crackers. “It was the crackers that won me over. “

Now, 10 years later, he’s in college studying 3-D graphic design. He’s doing tour guiding for the Salaam Baalak Trust because, he says, “I’m kind of a nerd and want to become more sociable.” If the graphics stuff doesn’t work out he can fall back on being a very sociable and well informed tour guide. 

The Salaam Baalak Trusthas 4,000 employees serving 11,000 street kids. And it’s one of several such organizations working in India. 

Next up, a stop a the Jama Masjid Muslim mosque, the largest in India, with room for 25,000 worshippers or more. It was built in the 17th century by the then most powerful ruler in India. At the time it was in the New Delhi created by the king. Today it’s in what the British called Old Delhi after they had built New Delhi in the 19th century. 

From the mosque we walked through a most interesting market thoroughfare. Yes, I know, I just said market streets are a dime a dozen, but this walk was a marketplace on steroids, or maybe I should say a marketplace on really spicy curry. I’ll let the pictures do the talking.

Our final Delhi stop was at the Gurdwara SiS Ganj Sahib, a Sikh temple. A brief history lesson is needed to understand Sikhism. Sorry. 

To my simple mind, India history has four eras. 

1.    From the beginning of human time, the Hindu religion evolved and by 1000 CE the region now called India was governed by hundreds of kingdoms, each with an overlord who extracted tribute from his subjects. Countless wars were fought between kingdoms as one king tried to extend his realm, thereby increasing his revenues. Countless times someone within a kingdom, usually a son, uncle or cousin, would overthrow the monarch. 

2.    Around 1000 CE Muslim invaders  from Afghanistan, intent on spreading the word of Mohammad started invading through the Khyber Pass, the only opening in India’s otherwise impregnable geographical boundaries: Himalayan Mountains to the north and oceans elsewhere. Hindi soldiers tried to defend against the invaders but before long the Muslim- based Mogul empire ruled the Indian subcontinent. 

3.    Actually, the Moguls never ruled completely. There were five hundred or more kingdoms with the same inter- and intra-kingdom warfare. Beginning in 1600 the English, Portuguese, French and others established trading operations. By the 19th century Britain ruled the roost. 

4.    The British granted India its independence, but not until it had given Muslim-dominant Pakistan its independence as well. So India has had self governance, from Mahatma Gandhi to Modi, just as long as I have been alive. 

Oh yes, the Sikhs. The fighters protecting the Hindu kingdoms from invading Muslims were chosen for their physical attributes. In fact, the need for protection united kingdoms that otherwise might have gone to war. Soldiers were required to a) never cut their hair or beards; b) carry a weapon at all times; c) carry a shield at all times, at least a device protecting the forearm; d) carry a comb to tame the long hair and; e) wear boxer-style briefs. Soldiers wore turbans to house all the long hair.

Life for soldiers was strenuous. One soldiers took up meditation as a way to relieve the stress of soldering. From that the Sikh religion developed. Today, Sikhs wear turbans, have trimmed beards and wear a bracelet in place of the forearm guard. Sikhs make up less than 2% of India’s population.

We visited a Sikh temple and observed Sikh believers worshiping in a sanctuary that included much gold decoration and live musical instrumentalists and singers. Later we visited a kitchen that prepared meals for believers. The meal is a sacred rite, one significance being that all are served equally, no matter that person’s caste or position in society.

Next, a six-hour bus ride to Agra, home of the Taj Mahal. We stopped for lunch around 2:30 PM at a fast  food plaza just off the highway. Burger King, Starbucks and Subway were there but the three of us opted for the Southern Indian counter where we ordered masala dosa. It’s a three foot long paper thin  tube with a dab of potato concoction inside with three mild sauces. Tasty enough but nothing to give Burger King competitive heartburn.        

We didn’t make it to Agra in time to see the Baby Taj. We’ll save that for tomorrow. Dinner was at a nearby rooftop restaurant. The three of us had variations on chicken in mild sauces. Plus, a birthday cake!

By the way, there are two basic lies told on every trip: “It’s quite nearby”; and “It’s not very spicy.”

We’re on the bus at 5 AM to be at the Taj Mahal for sunrise and, hopefully, to beat the crowds. Then back to the hotel for a siesta and afternoon Baby Taj activities.

Sorry, no pictures tonight but I’ll post today’s after we get back from the Taj. It’s going on 11 so off to bed!

Here, finally, are the pictures:

 

 

 

We’re an hour and a half from Doha, our intermediate stop on the way to Delhi. The trip is 11:20 long. I slept 5 hours, Judy an hour or so more and Reagan less than we did. Very pleasant trip so far. 

So far my only complaint is severe bloating, occasioned by pizza at the party thrown by Rebecca in Melrose, snacking at the British Air lounge at Boston Logan, a full midnight (EST) dinner followed by a full breakfast just now. We’ll probably hit the Qatar lounge at Doha and then suffer through a dinner service en route to Delhi. But we’re going vegetarian in India so it’ll even out, calorie wise. 

But enough whining. The trip so far is going well. The visas I did on line worked just fine after the nice lady at the counter showed us the last few buttons to push. Reagan proved her worth not only as Chief Sherpa but also as the brains of the outfit. 

We’re arriving at Delhi at 1:55 AM Sunday morning. We’ll be met by a representative from Women on Wheels, a group formed to provide employment for disadvantaged Delhi women. They’re to take us to our hotel. 

Problem: check in time is noon, so what to do but sit on a park bench for nine hours? Solution: I finally got around to working the problem yesterday. The hotel is fully booked so no chance of an early check in. Instead I booked rooms at the nearby FabHotel Prime New Heaven for $40 a room. What could go wrong with that?

It’s now Sunday at 1 PM and, miracles of miracles, we’re checked into the Bloom Hotel, the first hotel of our scheduled tour. The Welcome Meeting isn’t until 6 so we have the afternoon to chill and explore. But, as they say, getting there is half the fun.

Flights went fine, as did the hour-long immigration and customs process. Our Women with Wheels ladies were there waiting for us and, after some confusion, they agreed to take us to the FabHotel rather than the Bloom. Two cars were required since they were driving four passenger vehicles – two in back, the driver in front with all our bags – no trunk.

I was nervous so tracked our progress on Google Maps and sure enough, we arrived at our destination about 3:00 AM. Problem: the last street was blocked by a gate. We checked at a nearby hotel and were instructed to go around the corner. There we found the JK Hotel, not the FabHotel. But, it turned out, the JK and FabHotel are one in the same. We’ve arrived! That is, Judy and I arrived but Reagan’s driver had taken her to the Bloom hotel. Our driver contacted her driver and soon enough we were all in our rooms with alarms set for 11 AM.

This morning we checked out shortly before noon. We had the options of a Uber rickshaw ride for about 80 cents, an auto Uber for two bucks or a seven minute walk. “Walk,” the nice lady recommended and so we did. Not something I’d like to do at night but it worked ok in daylight. We’re all checked in and ready to hit the tourist trail. But first, showers and chill time for an hour.

There are roughly 1.4 billion people in India, the world’s most populous country. And a fair portion of them chose this nice Sunday afternoon to join us at the Lotus Temple, a Baha’I Faith house of worship. Temperature today was 87 F; the humidity number was the same. Hot and humid is the name of the game for the next two weeks.

Completed in 1986, the temple was funded by funds left in a wealthy Pakistani’s will. It’s one of Delhi’s main tourist attractions, bringing in between 2.5 and 5 million visitors annually. We were the only westerners we saw. The rest appeared to be locals with most women dressed in stylish and beautiful saris. The men? Like most places they were dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with a sports logo or something worse. Some things are universal.

Once again, getting there was at least half the fun. I had an Uber queued up and we walked outside to be certain of the pickup spot. But there at curbside was a tuk tuk – the two passenger motorcycle-based conveyance. The two people who hopped out identified themselves as members of our G-Adventure tour group. They’d been using the driver for a few days so there was nothing to do but jump in the tuk tuk and go. Who needs Uber in Delhi?

There’s only one control used in Delhi more frequently than the accelerator pedal: the horn button. Break pedal? A decided third place. Rear view mirrors? Fergitaboutit. Traffic was heavy so the ride was slow but exhilarating. Almost as much fun as when one of the grandkids drives down the hill in the dark at Onawa.

At the Lotus Temple, our driver refused payment. “I’ll wait for you at the main entrance and take you back.” And sure enough, an hour later, there he was. At the hotel he said, “Did you have a good time? Are you happy?” My response: “Sure did. How much?” “Whatever you think is right,” he replied. “As long as you are happy, I’m happy.” I pulled out a 500 rupee note (about $6 dollars). “OK?” I asked. “As long as you are happy, I’m happy.” So of course I added a second 500 rupee note which made our driver friend much happier. An interesting pricing model to be sure. Uber was about $2 each way.

While looking for our tuk tuk, a young girl ran up to me and planted a yellow Hindu tattoo on my forehead, one similar to ones I saw on people at the Temple. “Money, money, money,” she insisted. “No, no, no!” Said I. It took several iterations of her plea and my refusal before we parted ways. I’ve never been taken for a fool like that in all our many miles of travel around the world. OK, excepting the trinket salesman at the Giza pyramids, maybe.

The introduction meeting was pretty standard. About half the group is from Australia, a couple from England and a few of us Americans. A pretty typical tour group I’d say. Our Chief Experience Officer, Jai, is actually NOT from Pakistan. He’s actually from the city of Udaipur in Rajssthan state in northwest India, not too far from the border with Pakistan  I misheard him and have ordered high voltage hearing aid batteries from Amazon so I don’t make that mistake again  

 

He’s not a guide, per se. The company prefers to hire local guides so as to create more employment opportunities for local people.

We had dinner at Oh Calcutta, a ten minute walk from our hotel. Crossing the major thoroughfare in front of our hotel was a challenge. Rather than waiting for the never-to-be-seen break in the traffic, Jai led us en mass across multiple lanes of cars and tuk tuks, all performing a symphony of horn honks. Reagan took her Nana by the hand to make sure she made it OK. Dinner was good, but surviving Indian food for those with a sensitivity to spicy food, like Judy, is going to be a challenge. The bill for three of us, drinks included, came to $70.

Breakfast at 7, bags in lobby by 7:50, tours of New and Old Delhi and then a six-and-a-half hour bus ride in time to visit the Baby Taj in Agra at sunset. Kind of a slow day, I’d say.