Blue Skies and Chai

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I’ve never felt so good leaving a city…I’m sure there is a lot of charm there but I sure didn’t get to see it. The train station left a lot to be desired and it was packed! Looks like I’m not the only one looking to skip town. They have metal detectors to walk through and you have to put your bags through an x-ray machine—but I don’t know why. The 3 men ahead of me all beeped as they walked through and no one was watching the x-ray machine?! I just took it as a hoop to jump through and prayed that no one had ill-fated plans for the Jhellum Express train to Agra that morning! After finding my train car (not as easy as it was made to sound) I bumbled my way through the narrow corridor and plopped in my seat—more praying, this time hoping I was A. in the right seat and B. on the right train. I had visions of being yelled at in Hindi about being in the wrong seat or wrong train. We finally start moving and I watched the train station platform turn into dilapidated homes, crumbling with age. Then you pass by miles and miles and miles of tent cities or garbage cities. It’s an incredible site. I’ve seen poverty in most of the places I’ve gone but this is heart wrenching. Slum dog Millionaire doesn’t do it justice—and I’m sure I didn’t see the worst of it. Makes me remember even on my worst days…it’s not that bad.

Once out of Delhi proper the haze starts to fade and I start to see blue skies, what a beautiful site. The garbage cities give way to fields of grains and even greenery. All the while there’s a man walking the corridor every few minutes yelling, “CHI-EEEE” I pass because well…I’m not that adventurous. But it’s at this moment I finally start to feel okay about my India adventure. The gentleman across from me gives me a few of his crackers—he informed me that he was out partying last night and is now hungry. He looks to be about 35 and has quite the belly on him. An interesting departure from the slender physique most Indian men seem to have here. A few hours later, we arrive in Agra. How do I know this? Three train personnel told me so—can’t help but feel they wanted to make sure the poor white girl got off when she was supposed to. A quick rip off by the tuk tuk driver and I’m cruising the streets with the cows and camels. He more or less takes me to my hotel—rips me off again, keep in mind he is pocketing an extra 50 rupees at the start of the trip and then squeezes an extra 10 out of me at the end. All in all that’s a dollar…so I can’t be too enraged. I make it to my room and collapse from the exhaustion.

I pulled myself together for a quick walk about but damn…it’s hot. Hotter than Delhi, rang in at 108. I make the rounds of the Taj Mahal entrances and get a game plan together for the following day. Head back to the room and end up falling asleep in my room till 10:00pm, which means I’ve missed another meal dammit. Oh well, that’s what my supply of Lara Bars are for...just happy to have blue skies and streets to walk down where I feel ‘safe.’

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