Disclaimer: I started writing about my trip on Saturday, but it took me a few days (okay, almost a week) to sit down and finish writing about my experience. I added dates so you know when it was written initially.


Saturday, April 19
I haven’t slept in about 30 hours. Yesterday, I left work at 2am to catch my flight to Delhi on Spice Jet (http://spicejet.com/), a domestic carrier. Mumbai has 2 airports – domestic and international – and they both have the same name. They are located about 15 minutes away from each other. The domestic airport looks totally different from what I saw at the international airport. It looks relatively new and has this simplistic, yet sophisticated design. There is marble everywhere. In fact, marble seems to be a very prominent building material here. All of my hotels have had marble walls and floors. Also, the homes that I visited had marble. Maybe later I’ll look into why marble is used so much. But, I digress. The marble at the airport had designs in some areas that looked like maharajas. I walked into the airport and all the airlines had ticket counters immediately to the left and right. There was a second set of doors guarded by Indian police with guns that opened to the check-in desks. I checked in and walked to the gate. I still had a couple of hours to kill, so I walked around the small terminal. There were a couple of gift shops and a book store open, but everything else was closed. The first thing I noticed when I looked into the gift shop window was a box of Ciallis and next to it was Viagra. I walked into the store and saw a bunch of pills that I thought required prescriptions. Silly me. There was nothing else for me to do other than read my book while I waited. I looked a little while later and saw people starting to line up to go through the security gate. I walked over and saw a really long line in the middle and a shorter line on the right that had just opened. As I was walking into the right lane, I made eye contact with an African man (#4 since I’ve been here) in the longer line. He motioned for me to go to the other line on the left. The line I was in was for men only. The line on the left was for women. I went through the female only line and waited at the gate for them to call my flight number to start boarding. I was shocked that no one asked me for my ID at the airport. A lot of people were there for those early morning flights. The other African man (#5) came over and talked to me for a few minutes while we were waiting to board. He told me I looked South African when I told him I was American. He was the first of many to say that to me today. We had to take a bus from the terminal to the plane. I thought I was going to sleep for an hour and a half on the plane, but I could not. There was a woman with 2 boys behind me. I thought the youngest one was around 18-24 months initially. He screamed, talked, pushed the seats, kicked and had a smelly diaper. Every time I nodded off, he made sure I wouldn’t stay asleep long. At one point, he stood on the seat and was touching my head. I turned around and gave his mother an evil eye for not keeping him under control. It was 5:45am and most people were trying to catch a quick nap. She made that impossible for everyone. When we arrived at Delhi, and took the bus to the terminal, I saw the boy fully for the first time. He looked like he was at least 3, maybe 4.

The hotel sent a driver to pick me up from the airport. My first impression leaving the airport was pretty good. The streets were clean and pot-hole free, unlike Mumbai. They even had recycle bins and signs to keep the city clean and green. I also didn’t see any beggars. All of that soon changed. The ubiquitous piles of rotting garbage soon emerged, and we seemed to step back in time. There were carts pulled by cows and small horses (not sure if I should call them ponies or just malnourished horses). There were also bicycle rickshaws along with green and yellow auto rickshaws.

I booked the budget hotel, Hotel Ajanta (http://www.hotelajanta.com/), online with hotels.com, so I wasn’t sure of what to expect. The hotel is in a very busy area surrounded by other budget hotels and travel companies catering to foreigners, i.e. tourist traps. The hotel manager tried to give me a higher rate than what I paid online. I showed him my paperwork and he seemed to lose some steam. The room that they gave me was not what I paid for. I looked at the website again to be sure, and I showed it to one of the hotel workers at the front desk. He told me that I checked in before the regular 12 pm check-in time so they gave me that room until 12. Ha. No one said that when I checked in. They were expecting me not to say anything. These people underestimate me.

I walked outside around the hotel while waiting to change rooms. Every other stall is a travel agency. I also looked at another hotel where I was planning to stay originally (had they responded to me). If I didn’t like my new room, I had a back-up plan. The new room was better, but still not great. I showered, but refused to use the towels. I also asked for clean sheets to put on top of what was already there. You get what you pay for. I took a rickshaw to Connaught Place (CP) to find food, shopping, and entertainment. I asked the hotel staff how much I should expect to pay the rickshaw before leaving. The rickshaws have meters but they are not always used. It is very important to get a somewhat objective local to provide the rate so that you have a bargaining position with the driver. If you go into it blindly and accept the rate that they give, you could end up paying 2-3 times more than necessary. I ate and shopped at CP. I also made dinner plans with a woman from my office who is working in Delhi. I walked around CP and the surrounding area for hours before dinnertime. I was approached with the same scam 3 times. Very friendly locals wanted to show me a market with good deals. I had already heard of the place and didn’t need an escort. They were eager to get me there because the merchants give them a cut of the jacked-up prices they charge tourists. They all had the same lines, which reminded me of the kids on the train in NY who sell candy. Two of them were teenagers “practicing” their English with me. I told them to stop following me. I walked around for most of the day and stopped at a coffee shop for refreshment before dinner.

I met Tracey for dinner in an area mostly occupied by expats. The restaurant had a movie theme and served Western food. Tracey was scheduled to be in Delhi for 9 weeks, but she’s leaving after 6 weeks. She doesn’t appear to be as open to India. She told me that she developed a horrible sickness while here and now she refuses to eat anywhere but her hotel and this particular restaurant. We talked about our experiences here. I told her about my day at the parlor after she mentioned her spa treatments at the hotel. I asked her if they bleached her feet too, but of course they didn’t. Her skin is already ideal; she’s white. She found all the emphasis on whitening creams and fairness ads to be disturbing too. We talked for a while and enjoyed good food before leaving for our respective hotels.

Sunday, April 20
Today, I woke up at 4:30am so that I would be ready to leave at 5:30am. I scheduled a tour online with Informative Tours (http://www.indiatraveltours.com/agra%20day%20trip.htm) to see Agra. A driver picked me up from the hotel and took me to the train station. He gave me my tickets and instructions for the rest of the day. The train ride was 2 hours from Delhi to Agra with tea and breakfast. There were so many people at the train station. My car was filled mostly with tourists going to Agra. I brought a newspaper along to read on the train. I started reading and then decided to look out at the countryside instead. All along the tracks were men squatting with their bottle or bucket of water. The train stopped and a man just went about his business with all the passengers staring down at him. I went back to my newspaper. I could do without “the view”. When the announcer said the next stop was Agra, half of my car stood up to disembark. I walked out and saw someone holding a sign with that was supposed to be my name, except it was spelled “Alizabeth”.

An English-speaking guide named Edwin Benjamin Lal (yes, he told me his full name) met me at the gate with a driver. We went to a local 5-star hotel, Hotel Taj View, where I could freshen up. This was the same hotel where I would have lunch later. He asked me what order I preferred to see the 3 monuments and gave me a short description of each. I decided to see Fatehpur Sikri (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fatehpur_Sikri) first, since it was the farthest away (over an hour). After visiting Fatehpur Sikri, I would have lunch, and then visit Agra Fort and Taj Mahal. Edwin talked a lot about the sites and about the city of Agra during the drive. He also talked about his family. He’s the only Christian I’ve met my whole time in India. The driver took us to a parking lot near Fatehpur Sikri where we had to catch a bus to the entrance at the top of the hill. The bus driver wanted to wait on 2-3 more tourists to come since it was just me and my guide. Two women came and he still wanted to wait on more. Then, he hit paydirt when a whole bus full of Russians started walking over. They were a huge target for hawkers. All of a sudden, the bus was swarmed by people trying to sell their wares.

Fatehpur Sikri was built by Mughal King Akbar. The legend says that he was married to a Muslim woman and did not produce children. She encouraged him to marry another woman to bear a child. He married a Jew – still no child. Finally, he married a Hindu woman and still did not produce an heir. He went to see a saint and made a sacrifice, and later his third wife bore a child. (I don’t think it was his, but who am I to destroy the legend.) Anyway, the fort contains marvelous buildings and carvings in red sandstone. There was a pillar that I found very interesting. It contained symbols from Islam (crescents), Judaism (stars), Hinduism (swastikas and lotus), and other secular symbols (mostly Persian). He built each of his wives a home that incorporated her religious beliefs and lifestyle. The Hindu wife had the most elaborate home and temple because she bore the son. He created a religion that incorporated all 3 religions into one, but it didn’t really catch on. There was a slimy green pool on the side where 2 men would jump for the tourists’ money. I thought it was pretty degrading, but it showed how people are willing to debase themselves at a price. There is also a mosque attached to the back of the fort. I walked around the back and saw the mausoleum from the back side. There were huge bee hives hanging from the top of the domes at the entrance. I was frightened at the thought of those things falling on the people below.

We drove back to the hotel where I had lunch. The food wasn’t very good. It seemed like they watered it down too much for the tourists. There were shops inside the hotel where I walked around to kill the rest of the hour. I bought some leather (camel) shoes for Rs 600 after bargaining down from Rs 1150. Pay attention because the shoes come up again later. Edwin and the driver came back to pick me up in a new car. The air conditioner wasn’t working in the old one, and I wasn’t going to make it through the day riding with the windows down with all those smells. (Aside: My uvula has never worked as much as it has since I’ve been here.) We headed over to Agra Fort (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agra_Fort). It was built by Shah Jahan, Akbar’s grandson. He also built the Taj Mahal, which is not too far, and is visible from the fort. I took several pictures with the back of the Taj Mahal as a backdrop. Most of the fort is made of local red sandstone and marble from Rajasthan. There was also gold on some structures that was stolen at some point by the British or some other conquerors. The buildings were very cool inside even though the sun was beaming down and the heat was unbearable outside.

After leaving the fort, we went to several stores. As part of the tour, Edwin had to take me to certain markets. He told me I didn’t have to buy anything unless I wanted to. Apparently, all of the tour companies do the same thing because I kept running into the same tourists. There were also shops that I saw where I wanted to stop and he obliged. At one very fancy multileveled store, I asked the saleslady not to follow me. She told the other lady and they backed off. Then, a man came over and I told him I was just browsing and he stuck to me like glue. The lady told him I didn’t want to be followed around and he ignored her. All of this was in Hindi, but I knew the context based on their body language. He kept following 2 ft behind me, and I quickly proceeded to the elevator. Do I need to wear a sign that says, “Be attentive, without hovering”? I saw a group of about 5 black people at one of the stores. That doubled the number I’ve seen my whole time in India. I think they were American even though I didn’t hear their voices, because we shared the same nod of recognition. There’s something about having no one else like you around and then seeing that you’re not totally alone every once in a while. It’s a little like seeing someone who could be your relative in a strange land. The Africans that I’ve seen here seem to just ignore me. Maybe they see me as just as foreign to them as everyone else. Or, maybe, it doesn’t really matter and I’m making a big deal out of nothing.

We went to Taj Mahal (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taj_Mahal) around 5:30pm in time to watch the changes before sunset. Vehicles are not allowed near the structures because all the pollution was damaging the white marble. We had to take a bus to the perimeter and then walk through the East Gate. On the bus, I heard an American accent (southern) offering a woman a seat. I asked him where he was from and he said, “ATL, shawty”. Ok, not really. I told him I was from Texas and we had a brief conversation on the ride up the hill. At the gate, they gave each visitor a bottle of water and shoe covers. I learned during my trip to Elephanta Caves that the national monuments charge a higher rate for foreigners. I had to pay Rs 250 at the Taj Mahal in addition to the Rs 500 I paid at Fatehpur Sikri for a daypass to the 3 monuments, while Indian residents only paid about Rs 20. The Taj Mahal was beautiful from every angle. It is a shrine to the love Shah Jahan had for his wife. It took 22 years and 20,000 workers from all over the land to build. Many of the people living in Agra today are the descendants of those workers.
Edwin showed me how the marble changed colors from the waning sunlight and the inlaid stones and gems looked like glitter. I took a lot of pictures. Shah Jehan had planned to build a black onyx replica of Taj Mahal for his own tomb across the river. He started the foundation, but was arrested by his son before he could finish. I took a picture of the foundation and its surroundings. I actually spent about 5 minutes inside the Taj Mahal. It is a small circular tomb with 2 marble casket-like sculptures in the middle. (The actual bodies are buried underneath the building.) It was hot, crowded, loud, dark and stinky. Everyone was pushing to see the middle. It was a claustrophobic’s worst nightmare and a thief’s paradise. There were signs on the outside warning us of pickpockets. No pictures were allowed inside. I went back out and took more pictures. I ran out of space on my memory card after Edwin took some pictures of me right outside the mausoleum.

We walked back to the bus and I stopped to see the wares along the side of the road. The same shoes I paid Rs 600 for earlier that day were being sold for Rs 100-250. We were going back to the Taj View Hotel to freshen up before going to the train station. I told Edwin I was going to return the shoes I bought earlier since I could get them for less on the street. I walked into the shop and handed the guy my receipt asking for a refund. He told me he couldn’t give me a refund on my credit card because he had already submitted the paperwork. Uh huh. He still had a couple more hours before the shop closed. No one settles their receipts before closing; I’ve worked in retail before. I told him that he could either put the money back on my card or give me cash back. It was that simple. He hemmed and hawed about how he didn’t have the authority to give refunds. I told him to call the owner or whoever had the authority because I wanted my money back. Then he said that credit card transactions could not be voided in “his country” unlike “my country”. Do I look stupid? Visa is Visa everywhere. All of the anger and frustration I’ve felt since being here all came to a head with this man. He underestimated me. I wasn’t leaving without my money. The other shopkeepers were standing at their doors watching the whole dispute transpire. I went back to the lobby and asked to speak to a manager, the hotel owner, or whoever had some authority over the retailers in that hotel because I wanted my money. It wasn’t even about the amount of money anymore, but the principle. This man had no integrity. I told the manager at the front desk what happened and we walked back to that store. She told him I wanted the transaction cancelled and I wanted my money back. He quickly said he would void the transaction on my card. “Didn’t I ask you to do that 10 minutes ago and you said you couldn’t?” I was so angry. He had to go to a credit card machine on the other side. I followed my card over there to watch him void the transaction. I walked out of there with my money, and resolved to never return to that place if I was ever in Agra again.

I took the train back to Delhi and was picked up at the station by the same driver from that morning. The train station was extremely crowded. Families were camped out on the platform having their dinner and they had pallets laid out for sleeping. The driver took me back to the hotel where I showered and packed my things for my flight back to Mumbai on Monday. The flight arrived on time at 2:25pm. I had just enough time to go to my hotel, eat lunch, and get ready for work. Overall, I had a good time on my short excursion to Delhi and Agra. I realize that it was very risky for me to travel in a foreign country as a single female. I was a walking target, but God kept me safe.