Feeling HOT in Agra

The next morning we catch a train from New Delhi to another city called Agra. I was told that the train was a "first class" train. I hate to see what the other class trains look like, but I was happy to have my own seat. I have seen trains ride by with people crowded in and standing (as normal). I listened to my favorite pop song which has now become the theme song for this trip and drift in and out of sleep. I gaze at the countryside and the slums of India. It is early in the morning so I witness the beginning of the day rituals. There is no electricity in these "homes" which are basically shacks made of tin or wood. People are outside half naked or naked (mostly kids) bathing from a pot of water; a teenager is brushing his teeth, a mother is combing her long black hair. Please don't ever take advantage of the fact that you have electricity and running water in your house. When I finally get into a good sleep we arrive in the city of Agra. The scene out on the train platform is a remnant of the NYC Port Authority. People are sleeping on the platform. Beggars are all over the place waiting for the "rich" to get off the train to give money or their bottle of water which they will drink and then sell the plastic. There are also people lined up to have a tourist pay them for a tour. This is a famous city; the Taj Mahal is here. Our native colleagues arranged a tour guide so we meet up with him and proceed to wait for the car. Little kids are following us out of the station begging "Madame, very hungry, please". A boy is holding his younger brother who is rail thin, maybe 6 months old with a worn t-shirt and no diaper/underwear. It is heart wrenching. But you cannot offer any money. It will just trigger a crowd of other beggars looking for the same. The little kid won't give up. Finally, one of the cabbies smacks him (yes, physically) and he moves to the next group of people. I purposely did not watch the movie "Slumdog Millionaire" because I didn't want my view skewed, but apparently this movie focuses on kids that are street beggars.
We finally get in a car to head to the Taj Mahal. Please don't let my first paragraph turn you away. When we arrive at the Taj we have to walk through a park, our tour guide tells us "please, don't answer any questions". This park is full of hagglers trying to sell you souvenirs and a "tour" of the Taj. Apparently, the entrance is free today, but that won't stop them from trying to "sell" you a ticket. We go through the usual security regime. Now we are tourists; the cameras come out of bags. The Taj Mahal is more amazing than you can imagine. We stroll up the large courtyard that is in front of it as our tour guide explains the history. Somewhere along the way, I realize I have admirers. I guess it would be appropriate; the Taj Mahal is a symbol of love. But Indian admirers? Is this for real? When we stop to take pictures, one of them comes over and asks can he take of picture of me- "Madame, very pretty, picture?" I am a little freaked out. No, I didn't pose for the picture. We spend some time roaming around this grand building admiring the architecture and detail. Our course we are barefoot to preserve the marble. Okay, okay. You are barefoot almost EVERYWHERE here. Somewhere along the way, I now realize my admirers have become stalkers. I guess I am "hot" to these Agra men. I was hot, the weather was hotter. By 11am my feet were burning-top and bottom. We left the Taj Mahal and at Agra Fort I met “Raj”. Another admirer, yet younger, trying to sell me snow globes with the Taj Mahal inside. He said “Madame-my name is Raj, you can look when you come out”. And sure enough he was waiting for me upon my exit. That young entrepreneur tried to sell me 10 snow globes for 100 rupees ($2). Now what would I do with 10 mini snowglobes? (I guess you will find out if you get that as a souvenir-lol). After lunch and some shopping we decide to leave by two drivers and not wait for the train. We were all hot, sweaty, and tired. This drive in the US would have been 2 hours, in India it took 6 hours. Car topics included: marriage, traditions, redlining on motorcycles, the job market, places we have visited and of course SLEEP. By the time we got back to New Delhi, we had time to eat dinner, drink wine, and drift to sleep. I think I dreamed that someone loved me enough to build me a Taj Mahal.