It’s All About the Karma…

On the morning of September 25th we caught a flight from Kathmandu to Delhi to continue our tour of India. There was nothing we wanted to see in Delhi (in fact we wanted to get out of the big city as fast as possible), but our ultimate goal was Agra, home of the Taj Mahal just a three hour train ride south of India’s capital. We arrived in Agra after sundown and went to one of the rooftop restaurants that our guide book said offers a view of the Taj. We thought it would be spectacular to see the landmark at night. We were surprised to learn that the Taj is completely without lights. At night all we could see was its famous silhouette, like a giant black hole against the dim city lights.

The next morning we were there by 6am to make sure it saw it in the rising sun and before the tour groups arrived. To get to the Taj Mahal, it is necessary to walk through two gates, both of which are huge and beautiful on their own. But by the time you get to the second gate, you hardly notice its beauty because through it you get your first peek of the Taj. Initially we felt our trip to Agra was obligatory – we could not come to India without seeing its most famous landmark. But once we caught our first look, we knew the trip was worth it. Part of the magic of the Taj Mahal is in the way it is approached. First with just a little glimpse and then after the last gate it stands in its pure and simple beauty at the end of a very long and narrow shrub-lined pond. Everyone who enters the inner courtyard can’t help but stand just inside the gate to gaze in awe. It is infinitely more beautiful than you could ever imagine – no matter how many times you’ve seen it in photos or on film. The Taj Mahal is constructed entirely of semi-translucent white marble, carved with flowers and inlaid with thousands of semi-precious stones in beautiful patterns. We spent a few hours there, admiring its simplistic beauty and enjoying the peace and quiet that the courtyard offered. Upon leaving, we had to run the gauntlet of touts, vendors, and rickshaw drivers who prowl the no-drive zone that was established to protect the Taj Mahal from damaging vehicle emissions.

Sometimes life throws you a test and we got ours in Agra. It started when we tried to mail home a small box of souvenirs and items that we did not need with us anymore. We had sent stuff home from India before with no trouble. The Agra post office proved to be a bit more of a challenge. After a very long and painful hour and a half spent in discussions with a customs officer, details of which I won’t get into here, he agreed to send the package if I paid him a bribe that worked out to approximately $15 CAD. You can imagine how that went over with me and after a bit of yelling and threatening on my part he decided to send the package bribe-free, but by then I had to question the security of my stuff after all the yelling and decided to send it home from another city. The unfortunate thing was that we had already checked out of our hotel and had train tickets for later that afternoon. Actually, three train tickets as it would be three separate trains and 17 hours that would get us to our next destination. So we were now traveling around Agra with our backpacks and a box of stuff (hereinafter referred to as “The Box”), which no longer seemed that small in size.

We managed to check our luggage at the train station but they would have nothing to do with The Box. So off we went in a tuk tuk to visit the Red Fort where the bag-check man kindly agreed to look after The Box while we enjoyed the beautiful Fort, which consists of a series of palaces, mosques and courtyards constructed almost exclusively out of white marble and red sandstone.

After retrieving The Box, we proceeded to the train station and boarded the three hour train to Delhi. This is where we got part two of our Life Test. By the time we reached Delhi my daypack, which had been sitting on the bunk above my head, was gone (thankfully they did not get The Box). Although there was nothing too valuable in the pack, it was maddening nonetheless and we had to deal with some very reluctant police officers who advised us to file a report the next day in Shimla, our final destination for this part of the trip. Feeling down and like everyone in the whole world sucked, we were snapped back to reality on our next train when we sat with the nicest family of Indians you could ever want to meet. It was exactly what we needed to remind us that this country is full of wonderful, amazing people and not to let one or two bad seeds get us down.

As we continued on our journey, we tried to figure out what it was that made this bad thing happen to us. And we came up with this: First of all we have had nothing but extraordinary luck and fortune on this trip and needed to be grounded, brought back to reality. Secondly, we had been dreading the entire Delhi-Agra-Delhi portion of the trip as we thought both cities would be horrible so it was sort of a self-fulfilling prophecy. And last, Kevin was mean to his girlfriend when he was younger so it was just his karma catching up with him. Quite clearly it happened for one, or any combination, of the above reasons.

Anyway, we took an overnight train north to Kalka where we had to transfer to another train on a narrow gauge track. This toy train really did look like a toy: only four cars long and not your typical Indian Railways train. Plush seats, waiters who served us tea, bottled water and breakfast, and outstanding views as we climbed over 2000 metres and passed through 103 tunnels. I didn’t even see one train cockroach. Ironically, once we arrived in Shimla it was World Tourism Day and we were greeted with a red dot on the forehead, cake and apple juice, and then we had to find the police station to file our complaint in regards to our stolen luggage. The whole police station event is another long story but the gist of it is that we got our police report (for insurance reasons) where I had to state that I did not file a complaint in Delhi where I first noticed the theft “due to being a lady”. I am not making this up – that is actually what they made me write. I have no idea how I am going to explain that to World Nomads Insurance.

Incidentally, throughout this time we (or rather Kevin) were still hauling around The Box and Kevin insisted on going straight from the police station to the post office to get rid of it once and for all. Things are much more civilized in Shimla and once we had the box sewn up in a cloth sack by a tailor and had bought some red wax with which to seal up the seams, it was good to go. Not a crooked customs agent in sight.

Shimla is a beautiful city of about 125,000 built in the most unlikely place. Once the summer seat of the Indian government under the British Raj, it is in the foothills of the Himalayas centred along a series of interconnecting ridges and peaks and spilling down the mountain sides toward the valleys below. At 2,200 metres it is cool even in the summer when it is 50 degrees Celsius in the lowlands. Because of its British history, Shimla is scattered with huge, old, English institution-type buildings, which are now used as state capital offices. It is primarily a tourist destination for Indian nationals: the vehicle-free bazaars are lined with shops selling the staples of middle-class Indian life: cell phones, Indian sweets, and saris. The restaurants cater to this clientele and we had a very hard time finding a decent cappuccino. Shimla is well known for its large monkey population - hotel windows must be kept closed or the monkeys will sneak in and steal your stuff! In addition there was a massive moth hatching while we were there which made walking at night quite treacherous. Despite how horrible I just made it sound, it is actually a really lovely place.

We spent a few days in Shimla enjoying the fresh air and recovering from our aforementioned Life Test. We celebrated Kevin’s 39th birthday by taking a long hike to a waterfall. Well, it might be a waterfall in monsoon season… this time of year it is just a small trickle. The hike involved scrambling down a steep, rocky trail but when we got to the bottom, we had the place to ourselves. Hardly surprising, only fools would risk their lives to view a trickle. Don’t worry about the birthday Dar, cake was had accompanied by some very terrible singing.

The next day was a travel day as we had to spend 11 ½ hours on a bus twisting our way around blind corners on a narrow road through the Himalayas on our way to Dharamsala. You may not have heard of Dharamsala but you have probably heard of its most famous resident: the Dalai Lama. Dharamsala has been the Dalai’s home-in-exile since he escaped from Chinese-occupied Tibet in 1959. Since that time many Tibetans have followed the Dalai and there are now over 250,000 in the area. This gives Dharamsala and the tourist area of McLeod Ganj a very different feel than the rest of India. The market is full of Tibetan crafts, books, and food. The streets are a colourful mixture of Western tourists and Buddhist monks. Although the Dalai Lama was not holding any public meetings while we were there, we were able to wander through the complex which consists of his personal residence as well as two temples, a garden, a gift shop and a museum detailing the tragic plight of the exiled Tibetans. Another day we walked to another waterfall and this time we were rewarded with a substantial stream of water, enough for Kevin to go for a bit of a dip (too cold for me). As we looked down from the top of the falls, we could see dozens of maroon robes stretched out on the rocks to dry in the sun as their owners took a dip in their monk ginch.

After a few days of complete relaxation and karma refueling, it was time to head back to the hustle, bustle, and heat of the Indian lowlands. Another full day on the bus found us in the company of a very inquisitive and friendly young Sikh man who had many questions such as: "What is your impression of India?", "Have you had any troubles here?", and "Is WWF real?" (we could not convince him that it is not - ooop! sorry to ruin it for you mdp). Our bus took us to Amritsar, home of the holiest shrine of the Sikh religion, the Golden Temple. The Golden Temple has been around for hundreds of years but was made famous in 1984 when it was occupied by Sikh extremists intent on creating a Sikh homeland. Prime Minister Indira Gandhi ordered the army to evict the Sikhs which lead to the death of several hundred (or several thousand, depending where you get your information). Several months later, Indira was assassinated by one of her Sikh bodyguards. The Temple is now a peaceful place and a good location to escape the commotion and pollution of the city of over one million residents. The complex consists of a massive walled courtyard that contains a huge pool with a white marble causeway leading out to the Golden Temple in the middle of the water. The Temple really is golden, gilded with 750 kg of pure gold. It is a beautiful sight to behold and it is fortunate that everyone is allowed in the complex and the Temple itself, regardless of religious belief. All pilgrims and visitors must remove their shoes, wash their feet, and cover their heads before entering the courtyard (see FFP below).

Later that same day we took a minibus with a bunch of locals to the Indian/Pakistan border about 30km away. The purpose of this trip was to witness the ceremonious closing of the border between the two countries. This ceremony occurs every day before sun down and has become such a spectators’ event that grandstands have been built. There were several hundred people on the Pakistani side and several thousand on the Indian side. It has the air of a festival or a sporting event. Miniature Indian flags are for sale along with popcorn and soft drinks. There is a lot of chanting and cheering while men in fancy outfits high-step, kick, sing and horn blow on either side of the border. Then the flags of the two countries are lowered painfully slowly at the exact same time so as one never appears higher than the other. The flags are carefully folded and then high-stepped into storage for the night. The minibus dropped us back in Amritsar near the Golden Temple, which was just as beautiful at night, and then back to our hotel for we have an early morning train to catch...

B.

Since we have just passed our five-months-of-traveling mark, we decided to reflect on some of the things that we miss about home. This list is completely superficial: do not be offended if your name does not appear. Let’s just cover it off by saying we miss ALL our friends and family. Here are our lists:

Brandy
- sidewalks
- elevators
- Starbucks “tall, soy, no water, extra hot, Tazo chai latte” (the “short, buffalo milk, extra sugar, sometimes hot, Indian chai beverage” just doesn’t do it for me)
- sushi that won’t kill me
- music in English
- brushing my teeth with tap water
- petting a dog that does not have a lot of scabs

Kevin
- carrying a wallet instead of a money belt
- not having to be on the look out for cow patties while walking down the street
- eating in
- driving
- going into a bathroom without flip flops on
- Wazzup kaffees

So for those of you at home, don’t take for granted any of these everyday luxuries that can so easily be enjoyed in our beautiful country.

Photos:
Us at the Taj Mahal
Another View of the Taj
In One of the Doorways of the Taj
KLH and The Box at the Red Fort
Toy Train to Shimla
View From Our Hotel Room in Shimla
Kevin's Birthday Waterfall
Moth Attack
At the Dharamsala Waterfall
At Our Hotel in Dharamsala
At the Golden Temple
Look out T.O. ...
High Stepping Border Guard and Adoring Fans
Golden Temple at Night

Our most popular FFP:
FFP #12