Leaving Jaipur reminded me how small and similar our world really is. As we left we passed by a dump of sorts. Now this isn't a typical dump: ie there aren't trucks dropping off mounds of garbage to create mountainous heaps. No, this is a stretch of road lined with garbage. It took a real 10 minutes to drive by. At first it looked like "stale" garbage but then I saw ladies with white bags sifting through it and my attention was peaked. This reminded me off the dump I saw close to the Arawak indian habitation in Columbia. I saw trucks dropping off loads of garbage reminding me of Duchesa in the Dominican. There was a man selling various doors that looked like they had been scavenged from the garbage. I saw tents (aka houses) made out of bamboo poles and tarps and scraps of rice sacks reminding me of Haiti after the earthquake. I saw children with distended bellows reminding me of too many places: the three listed above as well as Honduras and Mexico but this sight mostly reminded me of the areas I visited just outside of Richmond, South Africa. Here I am in India and it reminds me of so many other places I've seen and smelled and I am boggled. This is not a one off. How these people live isn't an anomaly: it is how much of our world lives. Yet it still fascinates, mesmerizes me.
From here Marhavit, our driver, (to be read in a British accent) took us to an incredible mosque, Jama Masjid, in Fatehpur Sikri. Fatehpur Sikri was the stomping grounds of Emperor Akbar in the late 1500s but the town didn't thrive for long after Akbar's death because it is not close to a water source. The mosque has Persian and Hindu designs and is said to be a copy if the mosque in Mecca. Inside the huge mosque (also called the Dargah mosque) is a pristine white marble tomb (dargah) of a saint. As we entered the tomb we needed to remove our shoes and out on one of the white Muslim caps. The grave is enclosed but there is plenty of room to walk around the enclosed area. As we entered we had to walk to the left and as we exited a man in all white lightly tapped our heads with peacock feathers. I don't know why, I just know we did. When I have wifi I shall attempt to figure this out.
Throughout the mosque there were many other graves with the sections for men and women being separate. There were four gates, the most marvellous being the victory gate which is 54 meters high, I believe. Although the mosque was lovely, and the marble tomb in the middle even lovelier, and I appreciated the fact that there weren't any Hindu spiritual men or idols (clearly), I didn't overly enjoy the whole experience. Why? Because 80% if the time it smelled like urine. Why? Ill explain in another post some day: ill explain what I've learned about Indian bathroom habits. And it will be interesting.
From the Dargah mosque we headed to our driver's house. He bought some Pepsis and samosas and took us to his simple house. His front yard had rubble in it and was somewhat unkempt (which makes sense since hi a driver and, like with us, gets calls for jobs am within an hi he's on the road for eight days. Crazy right?) We walked in the front door to his bed on the left, and a tv ahead. His wife brought in some plastic chairs and his nephews brought a table into this room. We ate the authentic samosas and Pepsi and his wife also served something that I have no idea what it is and I lovingly hope I never need to eat again: jalebi.
It tasted like deep fried sugar. It was orange and circular and as I bit into it oil sprayed a bit. We all ate one to be polite but that was a tall order. Nonetheless we appreciated his hospitality and his desire to share his home and family with us. (Sidebar: in Jaipur he took us to meet his daughter who is studying at college there).
We then went to Agra and checked into our hotel. We were up for a bit of an adventure so Michelle found us a rooftop restaurant with a gorgeous view of the Taj Mahal. It was a lovely idea and would have been even lovelier if we had been able to actually see it. Unfortunately we arrived after sunset and so the world wonder was shrouded by darkness. C'est la vie!
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