A day at the Taj Mahal

So, after four and a half month of having to wake up early in the morning to call The Boyfriend (US-India time-difference is a bitch for relationships), I was finally rewarded for my diligence* by a visit from the man himself. He was only here for a week since his stupid job wouldn’t let him take off more time, so we resolved to jam-pack that week with fun/excitement/joy/photo ops in order to make the most of it.

On day one, to get it out of the way, to make sure he saw the most beautiful monument to love ever erected, we took a day-trip to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. I’ve been to the Taj once before a few years ago, and I remember walking in through the gates and thinking “Wow, this actually isn’t overhyped.” I also remember being meticulously posed in photos by my guide so it would appear that I was holding the Taj up by my thumb and forefinger. Both of these memories are still accurate representations of the tourist experience at Taj.

Here’s what I didn’t remember—the “MONEY MONEY TOURIST WITH MONEY GET HER! GET HER!” shitshow that happens before you make it into the Taj. We had barely made it into the parking lot of the Taj before our car was surrounded by hawkers/would-be guides/touts.  About 10 people jumped on me as I opened the door to the car with some version of “only 200 rupees and we’ll bring you to the entrance of the Taj!” (For the record, the parking lots are about a 15 min walk from the ticket booth and cars aren’t allowed closer, so there are any number of rickshaws, horse buggies and camel-pulled carts lined up outside the parking lot). I pointed out to my harassers the (very hidden and small) sign we’d passed on the way in stating that there were free buses “even for foreigners” that would bring us to the ticket booth. The harassers were like “Ok, ok—we give you a special discount then—only 150 rupees!”

Because we didn’t want to wait for free bus thing we ultimately ended up paying a guy with a horse and buggy 20 rupees to bring us to the entrance. We also managed to ditch all of the would-be guides who were promising to sail us through all of the lines (“which can otherwise take hours”), which was a good thing because, as we learned upon approaching the ticket booth, there is never any real line for foreigners (who must pay a USD$12 entry free, and get VIP tickets). This is sadly not true for the line for Indians, which looked hours long; Indians only pay a $0.20 entry fee, though I did wonder if they would be able to skip the lines if they anted up for the pricier ticket.  Our VIP ticket also came with a free guide and overshoe socks so we didn’t need to remove our shoes while walking around. Score!

(As a side note, India is an incredible, amazing, wonderful country—but I think it can be a fairly draining experience for someone who just experiences it as a tourist as tourists are constantly dealing with touts who attempt to mislead and cheat. Being jumped on and yelled at by 10 people upon leaving your vehicle is no fun for anyone, and I can imagine it gets incredibly exhausting and intimidating for the tourist who has to deal with it every day (and may be tired and jetlagged to boot). It also make you feel that you can’t trust anyone—a Hindi-speaking friend recounted an experience listening to the “trusted” hotel driver negotiate with a tout to drop her at a location far from the entrance she needed so that she would have to pay the tout extra to bring her to the entrance in his rickshaw. The tout, of course, promising to make it worth the driver’s while.)

Anyway, after dealing with all of the mess we finally made it into the Taj! And once again, I must say that, even on a hot day with thousands of other tourists there, the Taj does not disappoint. It is graceful and delicate and strong and magnificent. It’s simply beautiful--a truly fitting monument to love.

Or is it? Here is something new I learned about the Taj from our guide—apparently there are actually three women, the three wives of the Shah, buried on the grounds. However, only the wife that actually bore the Shah sons (presumably, the son who later imprisoned his father for overspending the empire's finances-on the Taj Mahal, amongst other things) is buried in the center of the Taj. So, is this a monument to love or a monument to the Shah’s satisfaction with his own lineage? You have to wonder . . . 

In any case, despite the hassle and the touts, I really do think that any tourist to India should spend a day seeing the Taj—it’s worth all of that. And, also, The Boyfriend seemed to really enjoy seeing all of the monkeys hanging out in the streets of Agra, so there’s that perk too!

*The Boyfriend will probably argue that, in fact, I’m much more prone to sleeping in then waking up for calls and when I do wake up I’m in my grumpypants morning mood. Ok, guilty as charged.