India Day 9

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This morning we woke up early and were at the Taj Mahal at sunrise (really early). The weather was nice; cool and moist. Not a breath of a breeze. And the mist was heavy. I'm including my best photos of the Taj and as you'll see, you won't see much. Being there you could see it pretty well, but the camera, at least my camera, wasn't able to capture the majesty of one of the true seven wonders of the world. It is very large, made of white marble and orange marble (look at the base) with intricate finish work and inlays of malachite, lapis lazulie, onyx, tiger eye, and other stones. It took 22 years to finish, even with 20,000 workers. Erica identified with the construction project as her's has taken nearly that long and probably cost just as much. At least the Taj workers showed up, or so we assume. There is not written record of permitting problems, inspector basheesh, contractor problems, material delivery issues, drunken workers, subcontractors renegotiating in the middle of the deal, incompetent subcontractors or the like, so maybe the mogul did have the same problems and we just don't know about them. On the other hand, we are told that if someone didn't perform or if a government worker tried to extract too much basheesh, the mogul would tear out his intestines, rape his wife and son and send the rest of his family into slavery. So, what do you think?

The Taj is a remarkable place. It's architectural beauty is hard to imagine. The balance of everything feels perfect. India maintains it well, something we haven't seen before in any of the sights we've seen. People are well mannered and friendly and they love, love, having their picture taken.

The rest of the crowd is on a shoot right now at one of Mother Theresa's orphanages. I decided not to go. I'm uncomfortable with the idea of a bus load of tourists coming in to photograph the wretched souls at the orphanage. It feels exploitive. But, it's not, I know. Two reasons; first, the people that run the orphanage want us to come and spread the word about what we see and they will ask us for contributions while we are there, money that I'm certain they desperately need to provide the care they provide. And second, the kids will love it. They will enjoy being the center of attention. They will enjoy the candy and toys that we will bring them. So, it's my problem. Fran went back to the Taj with Jan. She couldn't get enough of it this morning.

As you may know Fran and I are dog lovers. That's a fair statement as to me, but as to Fran it's a serious understatement. She's a dog nut on the far end of the spectrum. So when we see dogs in India, which we do all the time, she is appalled. We try to keep it in perspective as the human condition is so precarious in this country, but we have seen dogs in the worst condition imaginable and still be living. So the picture included today in this blog of a dog is about in the middle. This is a normal dog that we've seen. He was just close enough to photograph. He was at the Taj looking for a handout just like the human beggars were. I'll tell you how jaded I've become on this visit. I feel more sorry for the dogs than for the humans that accost us for money, and that makes me feel really lousy.

On a lighter note, in the category of things you probably never need to know about India but will be able to use to surprise your friends at cocktail parties when you are fearful of never having anything surprising or interesting to say, I want to tell you this; Indians do not use toilet paper. . . . . That's right. It's not that they walk around with you know what on their you know whats; at least we don't think so (I won't let this blog degenerate into an Indian bashing thing. Those bad smells in the street do not seem to be coming from the direction of the pants of the population. Oh stop it David). Here's what we know. In every bathroom, in every hotel that we've stayed at, the good, the bad and the ugly, there is a drain next to the toilet and a cold watr spigot and a small pitcher. Nobody from our group knew the purpose of said equipment. But Rashiv explained, in response to a question about the lack of facilities in the villages and cities, that Indians prefer to go into the fields to make doodee (I tried to figure out a more palatable, no, wrong word again, a more sensitive way to say it, but I couldn't). They always carry a bucket of water to clean themselves. He said, they don't use paper. Ah ha! So that's the purpose of the pitcher and the spigot of water. However, we have yet to figure out how to make that work. Fran suggested that getting into the yoga headstand position and pour the water but couldn't lift the pitcher and stand on her head at the same time. Maybe that is why yoga is so popular in India.

Tomorrow we leave here and drive another five hours to Delhi where we get on a plane to Varnassi where we will see the Ganges and photograph people bathing and undertaking religious rituals. We will stay the night and then fly back to Delhi where we will have a farewell dinner and then we will catch our flights back to the U.S.A. I hope a medium rare burger awaits me. Fran is looking for a salad where she can feel confident that if she eats it she won't die. I will try to write again before we leave. If I didn't gross you out enough let me know. I can up the intensity in a New York second.

David

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Comments

[Theo Folz]

Taj
I am sure Francie pics will be perfect. You should not have cut corners on the camera you bought for the trip!!!! Hang in there--only a few more days of green and yellow stuff.

[Jan Lewis]

Good to be back in the US of A
I loved traveling with the Horvitz clan. Theo, you think you're tired. What day is it?