Is the joke on us?

On Monday after work Jen and I made our way through Delhi traffic to go the Jama Masjid mosque. Walking through the long parkway, which was packed with vendors, to the mosque entrance was just as challenging as the Delhi traffic. At the entrance of the mosque some man greeted us and said that we had to wear these ridiculous blue frocks that looked like something you get at a hair salon.  They were bright blue plastic with some paisley design. Jen and I were suspicious at first and pushed back. Our friends had been here a couple weeks ago and they didn't have to wear a frock. We were not about to be duped like newbie tourists! We told the guy that we were not going to wear it. We pointed to all the other women walking around without having to wear blue mumus. He insisted that the other women were Muslims and didn’t have to wear it but we had to. It didn’t make sense because how did he know what their religion was or ours for that matter.

After some going back and forth we just put it on because this is this biggest mosque in India and we didn’t want to not see it. When we walked in, I just saw more Indian ladies in their normal attire not wearing a ridiculous frock. I was getting annoyed because Saris show more skin then the long pants and sleeved clothes we were wearing under this huge, plastic sheet. Then I started looking around the plaza and saw pockets of blue Smurfs like women fidgeting with their attire while scrambling around. All the foreign women were wearing them too. This relaxed us a bit and we let the guy who gave us the frock be our unofficial guide. He walked us around and tried to tell us about the mosque but his tour was just as silly as the frocks we were wearing.

The "guide" didn't know anything about the mosque history. So now again, I was back to thinking that this was a scam. The guide who called himself the guide didn’t even know what year the mosque was built! He was more obsessed with making sure the frock was in place. Several times he adjusted my frock. At the end of “the tour” he insisted he walk us out even though we wanted to take more pictures. We ended up taking some pictures but I would never frame them or anything because you can’t see the mosque! The frocks are covering everything including the mosque. Finally he walked us out and got our frocks and asked for 20 rupees each to wash them! We only gave him 20 rupees instead of 40 but I am still not sure if this was a scam. I told people at the office and some people said it was legit some people just laughed. Maybe one of these days, someone will see Jen and I on an episode of Candid Camera. If you do, please let me know.

Holi Mubharak Ho!

We celebrated Holi in Delhi today. Holi, also known as Dhulheti, Dhulandi or Dhulendi, is the a celebration of Spring. We celebrated by throwing colored powder and colored water at each other.

My Taj Mahal Story

It feels like I have been waiting to see the Taj Mahal forever. The moment I heard its story, I fell in love with it and was immediately envious of the heroine. I heard that it was built by a Shah for his beloved wife who passed away. I always thought how romantic men were back then. They built honored their wives with alluring shrines. These days you hardly hear love stories like that. I wanted to learn more about the Queen. I wondered what was her secret appeal that made the Shah devote his life offering her memory such a tribute.

After a 5 hour drive from Delhi we got to Agra where the Taj is. The car service provided us a free guide, Shams. Shams was an amazing guide/photographer/comedian. He has lived in Agra all his life and is as much in love with the Taj Mahal as the Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan was when he built it in memory of his favorite wife, Mumtaz Mahal.

As we started the tour Shams told us the story about Shah Jahan and his favorite wife who actually turned out to be of Persian decent. Her real name was Arjumand Banu Begum. When I heard she was Persian, this perked up my ear and everyone could tell that it also inflated my head. I was proud that my ancestors had some role in this magnificient site that has attracked thousands and thousands of people to it from all over the world for hundreds of years. It is truely breathtaking. Shams sensed my rejoice in tidbits of information relating to Persian contribution so he took great pleasure in teasing me with other Persian contributions to the Taj. This was our joke of the day, all the great contributions of Persians to the Taj Mahal. I told them if we kept it up there wouldn't be enough room in the photo of my head and the Taj.

I think I am no longer envious of Banu. Shams told us that Banu died giving birth to her 14th child. Being pregnant for 14 years doesn't sound very romantic. I guess it was common back then but when I heard this I envied her less. Shah Jahan was so grief stricken that he spent the next 22 years of his life creating this mausoleum. During that time poor Banu was in some regular coffin and her body was moved around twice to different grave sites until finally he finished the Taj and she got to rest. When I heard this part, I really stopped being envious of Banu. The poor lady was pregnant for the majority of their marriage and then even after her death her body didn't get any rest until 22 years later when he finally buried her in final restig place. I mentioned to Shams how sad Shah Jahan must have been after the death but then he pointed out that Shah Jahan had at least 3 other wives and 500 concubines! This is when I decided Banu could keep her Taj.

The Taj Mahal

It took 22 years to build the Taj Mahal. Shah Jahan, a Mogul emperor, built it for his second wife.

Road Games

On Friday I went to Delhi to drive from there go to a wedding in Rohtak. The drive was beautiful but long so we needed some entertainment. We found it chasing this car that we suspected had a kid in the trunk. 4 of us and our driver were crammed in a sedan for 2+ hours to drive to the wedding. We had been driving for awhile when our driver said he saw something moving in the car in front of us trunk. The trunk was open so he pulled next to them to tell the car full of people that they forgot to close the trunk. They entirely ignored us so he joked, "what you got a kid in there or something?" which they did not respond to! This led us all believe that there had to be a kid in there so spent the next 45 minutes tailgating this car to see if the trunk would open over a road bump and we could see the kid. A couple times the door opened slightly more and everyone swore they saw something wearing a sweater move in the back. I yelled out the window "hey let the kid free, or kid we got some cookies you want it." But none of our please got us closer to getting the kid out of the trunk. Then it stopped on the side of the road and some of their kids (the privileged ones who got to ride in the car) came out to get chips and stuff. While they had stopped the trunk opened slightly more on its own. There was definitely something moving it and it wasn't a dog. We tried tailgating the car after the stop to open it ourselves they got wise to us and speeded away. Hopefuly the kid made it ok.

Disclaimer: this is not legal in India and could be entirely fictional but very funny (at least to us bored passengers).

I'm traveling with celebrities

Today is a holiday in this region called Pongal. Since we had the day off, we decided to do some site seeing. We went to Golconda fort in Hyderabad. There were a lot of Indian tourists from all over. When we finally went up the 300+ stairs to the fort, a lot of people were taking pictures. A group of young Indian boys came up to Jon and asked him for a photo. At first we thought that they wanted him to take a picture of them because Jon has an amazing camera with him (that we are all jealous of). But, they actually wanted to take a picture with him. This became a trend throught out the fort. Jon and Jen got requests from so many people to be in photos with their kids that I became jealous of their celebrity status. Later on when we went to the local bazaar, I also had a few kids asking me where I am from and shaking my hand.