monkey mahal

After all was said and done in Agra, I can truly say that the Taj Mahal did not disappoint. Despite the fact that we paid 750 Rupees when Indian tourists only had to pay 20, the Taj Mahal still projects an air of purity that is just really magical. We woke up at around 5:30 in order to avoid the mad crowd which was no problem because at this hour, the city blaaasts Hindi music in the streets through loud speakers. This music was so incredibly loud and shrill, there was no way anybody in the city could have slept through it. Walking around at that early hour was pretty beautiful because the haggling Taj ‘guides’ that are so persistent weren’t there yet and the drivers were still asleep in their rickshaws. We even saw people walking camels down the street! The narrow dusty streets, the run-down buildings, and the massive pearly Taj Mahal looming over it all…sounds like Aladdin, right? (I’m quite positive that movie was based on this town!)

We did, however, have a SUPER scary/hilarious encounter with some local monkeys on the roof of our hotel. We went up to take pictures of the Taj around sunset and we were all elated and blown away when we noticed the number of monkeys running along all the rooftops. And these were not small chimp-size monkey they were more like medium-size dogs. As we were going down the stairs we encountered an angry pack of monkeys that started growling at us. Because we were on a roof, we really have nowhere to run and as soon as we started to become palpably scared, these monkeys lunged. I don’t know who was screaming more, us or the monkeys, but all the people hanging out on other roofs were alarmed and gawking at our scene. Mel actually bore the brunt of the madness, these crazy monkeys even stole one of her shoes! It was such an animal kingdom moment when we had to calm ourselves down and get completely still in order for the monkeys to stop freaking out. It’s possible that we scared them?



We rolled into Jaipur, otherwise known as “The Pink City” for the pink color of all the buildings, past midnight. And there the adventure/stress began. It feels so counter-intuitive to be traveling at night as a tourist, but nearly all the trains riding between major cities only go once a day and depart or arrive at night. So no matter how you try to work it, you are usually arriving in a city you’ve never been to before in the middle of the night. SCARY! Especially scary when all the drivers are immediately upon you shouting prices, trying to take you bags, asking you where you’re from, where you’re staying, how you like India. I mean its nearly impossible to arrive anywhere in a discreet manner.

To be honest, we were getting really nervous and uneasy because it was so late and we had a few male rickshaw drivers following us way to closely. When we finally made our way outside and worked out a price with another driver (with these other creeps shouting behind us the hole time) we were totally shaken up. At the time I was having a hard time not projecting my own nervousness. So I was doing the typical nervous tourist thing, “How far is it? Are we almost there?” and on & on. Finally, we got to our hotel after driving down the longest and most nerve-wracking alley ever and our driver turned to us and said, “Listen I know you are nervous but please trust me and if you want to hire a driver here is my number”. He seemed like a nice enough guy so we took his number but didn’t think twice about him because we were just so relieved to be safe & sound. The next day we did end up calling him and making amazing friends with him and another driver. After spending some time with both of them and going to dinner with them and hanging out the next day, I can’t help but feel extremely guilty for being so distrustful of him in the beginning.

It’s true that you should always watch your back here. Things can be dangerous and people’s intentions are not always immediately obvious. But I am realizing that being so skeptical as a tourist is incredibly alienating. I have felt so little human connection to the people here because I am constantly trying to protect myself. These were the first people that I actually felt like I could trust and that were interested in actually being friends. Islam, my ’driver’ who actually turned out to be a jeweler…?, said to me, “You know sometimes it’s worth it to trust people.” That really stuck with me because I worry that I will miss out on forming relationship with people because I am trying to be so cautious.

My own approach might be the reason I don’t feel a connection to people here, but I also have to say that there isn’t much interest coming from the other side. The majority of my interactions with the locals have been transactional. If they are getting paid, it’s a nice situation but there isn’t much interest beyond that. It feels like all they see in us is our money. They become clearly disappointed when we don’t order enough food, buy enough souvenirs, opt for the expensive hotel room. Not that they will insist we spend more, but they do seem disappointed. But I don’t know what I should have expected. We do come from a wealthy country and we obviously have enough money to take a trip like this. And from their culture’s point of view, it is unexpected that w person with money wouldn’t want to enjoy luxuries they can afford. Here, if you can afford the first class seat, you buy it. Whereas for us, we will take the non-air conditioned sleeper car because we sincerely enjoy traveling modestly.

So it is a money thing that creates this divide and also the fact that we seem to constantly be spectacles. On the last train I took, I had a group of four men stare at me for literally over 2 hours. Staring with an intensity that didn’t even relieve their gaze for a minute. I guess it was pretty hilarious but ultimately infuriating! Because at the end of the day just watching us doesn’t increase any kind of understanding. And it’s not as though too many people actually want to have a conversation. I can’t even begin to fathom how they view us or even whether we are welcome. I’m just not sure.