Amanda in...
11th Oct 2006Tattoo Taj Tour I just finished my 36 hour bus/train marathon. I am marginally less dirty than the last time. Think Johnny Depp during those unfortunate mid-nineties years when he was unwashed. That kind of dirty. Staying in Agra two days. Seeing the Taj Mahal tonight at sunset, tomorrow Fadapur Sikri then on to Jaipur. Sat next to this really cool Israeli guy on the bus to the Nepal border. We talked politics, travel and entertained each other with stories of our lives and subsequent deaths in the small town we got stuck in for an hour. I raised cattle (which is great since I`m terrified of cows) and was paraded around by my cro-magnon husband. Villagers paid 3 rupees each to either touch or spit on me depending on their tastes. 2 extra rupees for a really chhuuuugh spit. I had 13 babies and died when a rabid dog bit my leg. He married a very pretty Indian girl who couldn`t cook or clean and ended up her domestic servant. He lost face with the locals and everntually died from parasites he contracted from dirty dish water. (We were stuck in this rest stop, and no one would tell us why, for upwards of an hour in the middle of the night). We were extra worried because he got stuck for 12 hours at a rest stop because of a Maoist strike and his friend was stuck in Kathmandu for 3 weeks. Yucky. We eventually made it to the border and my 3 hour bus ride from the border to Gorakhpur only took 4 and half hours, which by India standards means we got there early. The reason it took so long was that they were `paving` the road. This involved taking Seven Drawf type pick axes to the perfectly passable pavement. Once the old pavement was in fist size rocks it was moved to a pile. Then men with baskets came and moved the rocks to a different pile. Then they used the baskets to throw the rocks on the road. Then they poured sand over top of the rocks. Then they used a steam roller to crush the sand. This was the new road. I got an AC cabin on the train this time which was great. Only again I wasn`t in the women`s compartment. I freaked out again and they put me with the cutest Indian family. I got a top bunk and staring was minimal. Good times. So much more comfortable to travel this way. The little boy in the family practiced his English and told me the alphabet (He`s 5). So cute. We played some games and he played with my toes. Then he saw my tattoo and pointed and screamed `Pakistan`! For those of you who don`t know, Pakistan and India hate each other with wild abandon. So now a group is gathering around my bare ankles to see the white woman with the Pakistan tattoo. The nice family explains to the crowd that it is a moon and stars on my leg, not the Pakistani flag. Tensions ease slightly. My train is only 5 hours late which is pretty good. I arrive in Agra, only realizing that were there when the family looks at me panicked and tells me that this is my stop. I unlock my luggage and exit the train in 3 seconds. A new record for me. I`m at a cheap guest house of questionable cleanliness. I`m here for two nights. I`ve been relaxing this morning because I want to see the Taj at sunset. When I step onto the street a flock of touts start screaming at me and follow me down the street. The guy that drove me from the station followed me from guest house to guest house taking up residence in the lobby until I asked someone to make him leave. I think he was trying to get commision. One guy started screaming at me that he wants my tattoo and asks me to wait so that he can copy it down. He says it looks `godly.` I try to explain that it is an ancient symbol with a long history and he should research it before he gets it tattooed on himself. Further, I feel uncomfortable with the idea of him tattooing my tattoo on him. He informs me that when I get home I should have it removed and moved to my calf because ankle tattoos are not good. I shouldn`t be offended, and I should be used to Inidan bluntness, but I am. I tell him I like my tattoo where it is and walk away before he copies it. He can do it from memory if he wants it that bad. It freaks me out. I ran into him later in the day and he accuses me of not liking Indians and not wanting to talk to Indians. He makes me feel like a bad person. Which is probably exactly what he wanted. I`m so sick of suspecting the worst of people. That aside, I saw the Taj today. Which is just as cool as it is on TV, only better. I walked around in the gardens for 3 hours to watch it turn fun colours at sunset. Unfortunately there were no fun colours. However, I did meet these two awesome English blokes and we riffed on what would happen if the Taj Mahal was in America. We must have gone on for about 20 minutes about firework displays, colour change flood lights, monorails, the Taj Mahal Tiger (Tm. Official Disney mascot of the Taj Mahal, character breakfasts at the Taj hotel connected by monorail to the Taj and ajacent theme park. So nice to have people with similar senses of humour. I met this American girl earlier in the day and made a joke about how if I popped out 14 babies for a man and he didn`t build me a Taj Mahal I`d be right pissed. She just stared at me like I had a third head. (Instead of the two I normally have.) Went back to the hotel to have dinner. Saw this guy who looks exactly like Neil (Hi Neil) only taller. So bizarre. I even think he`s English (correction: Swiss). Met an Aussie woman who I may meet up with in Jaipur. Tomorrow Fatapur Sikri.
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