I've been typing up my journal most of the day and have found that it is very long, even for just the four busy days, one spent at Golconda Fort and three in Delhi/Agra. I've doubled my journal up to 17 single-spaced pages. I certainly wouldn't want any of you to ever feel obligated to read it all, so I'm going to do the best I can to copy/paste just enough and not too much. Also, I've posted some pictures on my photobucket account which can be found here http://s2.photobucket.com/albums/y46/deafelephant/India/.
Friday 21 August 2009
Today I finally felt up for a solo adventure beyond the half hour walk around the hotel and not so tethered to the hotel bathroom. Early afternoon, I struck out for Golconda Fort which is southwest of the city and on the highest hill in the area. The fort has lots of interesting history, which I read about in “Hyderabad: A Biography” but I won't go too much into that. It was initially the place the king of the area lived before he moved into Hyderabad. It was a very safe place where the natives were able to hold out against the Moghals, led by Aurangazeb, for eight months until someone within the fort betrayed them.
The ride to the fort was somewhere between 30 and 60 minutes and quite bumpy; my lower back hurt the next day. While walking up to the ticket counter, a man approached and helped me without asking then walked me past the gate towards the fort entrance. He gave me some of the history and interesting details of the fort, while I was asking “What?” the whole time. Finally, he said he'd give me a tour for Rs 600 (which is way more than the guidebook said) and when I pointed out I have trouble understanding him he said he would speak louder. He then proceeded to speak quite loud at the sign with a map of the interior, pointing out the different things. Then we proceeded to just inside the gate where there was a 2 meter square area where you could clap and hear the multiple sudden vibration from the specially designed ceiling. There used to be eight gates at the fort and this clapping could be heard at any of them from any of them which was a crucial part of the fort's effectiveness – the ability to instantly alert for intruders. Then he asked again if I wanted the tour and I tried to decline as politely as I could.
I noticed another potential guide walking towards us just as the first guy was walking away and I pretended not to notice him while I continued to walk at a moderate pace away. He finally caught up to me after calling “Madam!” a few times but not loud enough that it seemed rude that I didn't “notice.” He then started giving me a tour and led me to this stone weighing 500 pounds and kept insisting “You want to try lifting it?” I kept saying “Uh no, I know I can't budge it. What's the point?” Finally, I gave in and gave it a tug. I actually felt some movement but I could tell the guy got a kick out of seeing a skinny white woman trying to move it. He said that it used to be required to lift it in order to join the army.
We slowly made out way towards the other end of the lower part of the fort. I kept insisting I only had Rs 100 (I did have 500 more but it was for emergencies) and I didn't really want a tour anyway. I tried to exhibit that I knew the history of the fort and I was unimpressed that it was three whole kilometres to walk the main trail inside of the fort but he wasn't dissuaded. He seemed to think that he could speak perfect English and that I was the one who had trouble understanding and speaking it which was both annoying and humorous to me. I kept trying to mention that I was hearing impaired, hard of hearing, but he simply refused to believe me even when I was totally lost at what words he was trying to use. Yet he stuck to me like a tick and I finally agreed I'd give him the 100 if he gave me a partial tour which included the Princess's palace.
He took my picture a few times in different places, showed me where you could flick at taut clothing and hear it amplified, where the room under the king's bedroom which was the guest room had special acoustics so you could hear a whisper from the opposite corner and the king could hear every word said in the room from his room. He also pointed out a shelf-like second floor where the scribes would write the official business down and store the writing - “They had to be short!” to be able to fit comfortably up there. It was the only time I made a successful comment “Oh the library!” He of course didn't know I was a librarian but he responded humorously.
Finally, we were done with the palace and he mentioned that the path to the top started just ahead, after the entrance to the tunnel leading to Charminar, and I was to come down the other way. I gave him the 100 and he gave me back my pen (he used to write numbers down on his hand so I could understand them) but not without acting ripped off and indignant. He had offered to do the whole tour for Rs 200 but I sternly reminded him I only had 100. There was even a whole “well, there's an atm, well, you could take me back to the hotel and pay me, well, the driver would certainly have money you could give me” but I was just like “No.” Finally, I struck out for the top without him, fully expecting to be bombarded by yet another hopeful guide.
Surprisingly, no one approached me after that to offer me their services. A teenaged girl asked me if her friend could take a picture of me and her. I was confused but deciding there was no harm in it, went along with it. They giggled after taking it and then another friend asked for the same which I again obliged before continuing upwards. Everyone stared at me, even more so than I'd noticed within the city. I wasn't wearing anything provocative, just long pants and loose short-sleeved shirt. I did see two white men who were with guides. One of them was quite out of shape and wore shorts yet for some reason seemed to think I was the one deserving the stares. There were at least half a dozen other instances of people taking my picture. I didn't really mind; they did ask and were polite about it. Between the stares and the pictures I did start to internally grumble and wonder if they had come to see me or the fort.
I kept snapping pictures as I went up – I had to stop often anyway to rest, drink water, and make sure I didn't overheat. The view at the top was spectacular. I had no idea where and what things I was seeing but I had a vague idea of where the center of Hyderabad was. On the way down, I walked behind a little girl who went down every step by herself. She was very cute and I managed to take a candid shot of her and her mother. I saw the building where Ramdas was held (that did have walls and doors) and the Qutub Shahi Mosque (name of the rulers who created and resided in Golconda).
When I reached the entrance at the bottom of the hill again, I saw a man who looked familiar and who seemed to recognize me. I was planning on calling the driver from my cellphone but then I realized this just might be him. After following him (he was going my way anyway) and he mentioned that would bring the car around, I figured out that it was the driver. Indians don't exactly all look alike, but there's so many of them they tend to run together in my mind. He asked where I wanted to go next and I wearily said “Back to the hotel.” I was relieved to make it back and just be able to sit and rest with no one staring at me.
Saturday 22 August 2009
Colin came home later than usual Friday night. We were planning on taking a 5 am flight to Delhi with Prashant. However, we ran into a lot of hurdles, which I don't want to recount here. There were times when both of us, already tired from very little sleep during the night, almost decided to call the whole thing off. But we slept uncomfortably on the two hour flight and landed in Delhi with no further mishaps. Saturday we drove around seeing the highlights of the city with Prashant narrating. I caught a glimpse of a monkey sitting on top of the fence on the way into the city. There was also a parade of statues depicting Mahatma Gandhi and some of his prominent followers walking in a line.
The first stop was near the President's Estate and Secretariat buildings. It was hot and everything was blocked off so we didn't linger long and just took some pictures in front of the gate. Clearly visible was the India Gate with Rajpath, which reminds me of DC's Mall, in between. We drove over to India Gate and had a longer time standing around it and taking pictures. The gate is a tribute to the Indian soldiers who died in World War I. Next, we stopped at Humayun's Tomb. The tombs are strange here – there's a wall surrounding gardens and waterways that are symmetrical and in the center is a big structure which is open-air and contains the tombs. I really didn't like figuring out that a dark slab hanging from one of the archways was a huge bee's nest. Colin took pictures of it and said he could hear the faint humming from way down (thankfully) to where we stood.
Prashant had a relative who owned a clothing shop so we visited it. “Visiting” is a much more appropriate word for what one does when they go to a higher end shop or bazaar in India than most shops in the U.S. They always greet you, show you around, and incessantly suggest what you should buy. They will ask if you want a drink for free (with the expectation that you will be spending a lot anyway) and will bring you tea or coffee. Needless to say, this can be really stressful especially if you're not that into shopping for clothes, which neither of us are. They tried to find something for Colin but not for long before they asked me what pretty things I wanted. As for fabric and colors, I've always known what I like and don't like so it didn't take long to pick out a red and blue fabric with gold patterned border. When asking how much a shirt would be, Prashant decided that it was ridiculously priced and then there was a long discussion between him and the shop owner while Colin and I sat there nervously drinking our coffee. The price remained and Prashant was still skeptical but he and Colin both agreed I had picked out something that was very nice for me so in the end we ordered the shirt which was promised to be at the hotel that night.
We hadn't had breakfast, so Prashant took us to lunch in Connaught Place, which is the central hub of the city before we made our last tourist stop of the day at Sadfarjang's Tomb. Prashant voted to stay in the air conditioned car while we went into the nearly isolated tombs. It wasn't as big and impressive as Humayun's but it was still nice and had been modeled after Humayun's with the same Mughal garden layout.
The hotel was more extravagant than we'd expected. I really liked the shower which was roomy and the water drizzled down from the center. We slept like logs for about three hours before the person with the shirt rang our bell. I tried it on – it was very hard to get over my head and shoulders because it wasn't roomy nor did it stretch at all. It looked very nice but I determined I wouldn't be able to wear it for long periods of time because arm movement was quite restricted.
We went downstairs for dinner at a restaurant called 24/7. I had lasagna which actually came with real beef. It tasted different but the fact that there was any was astounding. We also shared a glass of wine which we hadn't had in India yet and it was a pretty good merlot. Then we went back up to the room, showered, and fell into bed.
Sunday 23 August 2009
We were so tired and weren't looking forward to the long bus ride to Agra when we woke up. Again, we went through the same process of wondering if it was worth it. And yes, it turned out just like Saturday had; the trip to Agra was worth it. In the hotel lobby we were given our breakfast boxes and then introduced to a fellow traveler, Almira. She was from NYC and it was so nice to be able to have a real conversation with someone without straining to understand and be understood but on the other hand, I'm not a morning person so it was a struggle to keep up with the peppy Almira. She was in India doing research for a book and had spent the past week riding in ambulances in Mumbai. She would be going to Hyd Monday but we didn't see any chance that she'd have time to meet up with me or both of us while she was there.
The bus was really a van with 11 seats. We were the first ones on, along with an elderly white man from our hotel who turned out to be Bolivian. We picked up other tourist (all white) from various high-end hotels – one more man and four other women. The third man who was Israeli named Rudy. The other tourists were characters and created continuous exasperating amusement for Colin and me (you know the type - tourists who think they are better than anyone else).
On the six-hour bus ride to Agra, we stopped at the Jaigurudey Temple. It wasn't immediately clear what it was and I admit to wondering if it was the Taj Mahal (it was white and had domes!), but realized it couldn't be since it was right next to the road (I had read there was a perimeter around the Taj Mahal where no motorized vehicles were allowed) and didn't strike me as overly big. We didn't go inside, only stopped to take pictures from the side of the road.
When we finally reached Agra, we picked up our tour guide before reaching the Taj Mahal. I'm not sure what I can say about it – the best writers in the world have tried and failed, so who am I kidding? It was big. It was white. It was hot. It was fairly crowded. I did like the idea that the entrance was known as “the lady's burqa” since the Taj Mahal is the mausoleum of a queen. An interesting connection – the king which was very in love with his queen had the Taj Mahal built for her when she died. His son was Aurangazeb, who wasn't a very nice guy. He imprisoned his father in the more loved daughter's quarters in Agra Fort, from which he could see Taj Mahal until he died. Aurangazeb was the Mughal who took Golconda Fort.
One of the more unique experiences was that Colin noticed some markings on many of the stones. Though we never found out for sure, we suspect they were the marks people put on them when they moved them to build the Taj Mahal so that it was clear which ones were theirs and how much was owed them (similar to cattle branding).
Throughout Delhi, we'd noticed creatures that look like chipmunks but are distinctly different especially the flat striped bushy tail. Their body build is different as are the stripes on their backs.
Lunch was at a hotel. Almira couldn't eat because she was fasting for Ramadan which had started the night before. Her parents are Muslims who immigrated from Turkey. She made up some food to eat after the sun went down on our busride back to Delhi. Next we were taken to a marble place, where they inlay colorful stone patterns into marble. Afterwards we were ushered (herded) into the showcase rooms. The first had these huge elephants and I said to Colin - in jest, mind you "Wanna take a baby elephant home?" He mentioned something else about them and then we were stuck in one of the shopkeepers' snares - "Oh you want elephant! Follow me! Come! Come!" And we get dragged through a series of rooms to one where there are much smaller elephants. I don't remember their price but it was certainly higher than we wanted to spend anyway. The shopkeeper played with the elephants, moving them and making soft trumpeting noises. "No, sorry," we repeated many times. Then we got pushed to other things and almost had to go to the second level where they had textiles but then - oh darn! Look at that, a power out! and we skedaddled away back to the bus as fast as we could. We wondered where the other people were and then finally they came back on the bus, saying they had been waiting for us and thinking we were still inside somewhere. Only one person got something.
Next, we made our way to Agra Fort. It was red and nice - and there were monkeys! You could see the Taj Mahal from where the builder viewed it while he was imprisoned in one of his daughter's quarters by his son Aurangazeb. The king had two princesses with different quarters – one marble, one plaster. It was an unmistakable way to show that he liked one more than another. The girl who had bought something from the marble place had it in her backpack which accidentally opened up and dropped the marble on the stone floor. It had been package in bubblewrap and they had promised us that it would be safe. Well, oops - part of it chipped despite the wrapping. On our way back to the bus, we were mobbed by very pushy people trying to sell us souvenirs. Rudy did buy something from one of them and ran onto the bus but the rest of them weren't dissuaded and kept trying to sell him more things even after the bus started moving, sticking their hands through the door. Colin had some fun with them while we walked to the bus. To some game: "Sorry I don't know how to play that game." To the weird wooden snake: "I don't have an enemy I hate that much." but the best was Rudy who yelled "I don't know how to read!" to one of them as we were trying to drive away. After we went back to the marble place so the girl could get her item replaced, we dropped off the guide and headed back to Delhi. The ride back was shorter, less than five hours, and we had a nice dinner with Almira before heading off to bed.
Monday 24 August 2009
If any of you know much about Delhi and are wondering if we made it to the Red Fort, we weren't able to, unfortunately. It was closed for some reason during the time we were there but we did get to see it from the outside while whizzing by in the car. However, I confess that I have already fused the memories of Red Fort and Agra Fort (they're both forts and they're both red) in my mind so there's nothing I can say about it except that if I ever do go back to Delhi, it will be at the top of my list of places to visit.
What we did do today was go shopping. Colin had stomach trouble in the morning so we took our time before heading out. We knew that the shopping areas were not very far from the Lalit Hotel (the francophones among you will know that means “the bed”) so we had planned to walk there. Just outside the hotel gate, a man walked up to us and offered us a ride to the Central Cottage Industry Symposium for a low price. We agreed and I got my first autorickshaw ride. Shopping here made the first shopping experience with Prashant seem easy – we ended up getting a bit more than we would have liked and by the end I was so tired of making decisions but we were mostly satisfied with what we got. I can't really say what we got because that would spoil the surprise of many Christmas presents!
Colin and I decided to dump our driver and walk the rest of the day. He insisted that it was dangerous to walk in the city (not during the daytime) and that people would put poop on our shoes and then demand a ridiculous amount of money to clean it off (which didn't happen). This was dramatic; we asked to be dropped off at a corner which turned out to be further north (further from the hotel) than he told us it was and he acted ... well, I don't know how to describe it but Colin suggested that he seemed “ sad that he didn't completely fleece us like the silly tourists we are?” But we wouldn't have any of it; he had repeatedly said “Pay me whatever you like at the end of the trip – 100, 200, whatever.” Colin way overpaid him with 200 and the driver hadn't even taken us to the hotel and since Colin had used the auto rickshaws in Hyd, he knew the driver had no right to even pretend to be ripped off.
After that, people started coming up to us appearing friendly and wanting to help. We quickly learned that they lied to us and gave us the wrong directions to the circle. While we were walking, I kept feeling like we were going the opposite direction and that the Connaught Place circle was behind us. Turned out I was right and we warded off all other attempts to “help” us. I had really wanted to go to a handmade paper store and we got close then asked a guard where it was. I zeroed in on picking things out quickly while Colin diverted the shopkeepers. When they asked what he wanted he said “Oh, no, this is her domain. She knows what she's doing. She's a librarian, after all.” I got my journal to put with my Italian one. The Indian one is covered in dry grass and the Italian one is leather and I have no idea if I'll ever use either - I think it's a way to tell myself there are more memories to be made if I ever revisit the countries. I got another one because I really liked the cover but I'll probably use it. The walk back was extremely hot and it turned out that we hadn't had enough water so I was very glad to sit in the cool lobby and drink water until we had to make our way to the airport.
The flight back was late but never listed as "delayed." They switched terminals but right when we were supposed to be boarding they were boarding people for a different flight and the previously assigned gate started boarding for somewhere else too. There were actually a lot of white people on our flight, including a guy that I commented looked like was from Kansas. He was taller than Colin and younger with blonde hair, cargo shorts, and converse sneakers. And he looked lost and more worried than we were. Finally, we got on our plane and made it back to Hyd an hour late. I couldn't sleep on the plane so I finished "Eat, Love, Pray" (which is a great book). We had some trouble finding our driver. There was some stormy weather while we were flying and it was raining on the drive to the hotel. It was good to finally be back and catch up on some sleep.
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