Agra Part 2

A P.S. about how the rest of my day went in Agra (was going to be a quick post, but we'll see):

I caught an autorickshaw after lunch to take me to the bus stand. I only bargained the guy down 10 rupees (25 cents) but realized I'd probably done really well when he actually dropped me off at the right spot. I remember reading in Lonely Planet about cheap rides ending up at commissioned shops, not even necessarily in the direction you want to go. I only had to listen to constant pressuring and cajoling from my rickshaw dude that if we stopped at a shop to "look only, no money!", then he'd get 20 rupees as commission to make up for the extra fare (and he'd been off work sick for 10 days, he needed the money for medicines, only 5 minutes, no problem, and on an on and on). I guess I was firm enough in my refusals, or maybe I was just lucky, but I felt thrilled when we actually got to the bus stand and he didn't even try to extort any extra money. Bronwyn commented that my life here sounds stressed, and I guess it is sometimes (nothing like school!), but it's not without the rewards and highs of having things work out. I love all the little battles.

The bus ride was also fun; I caught it just as it was pulling away so I got the special "last one on gets to stand" spot. Sorry, this is misleading; usually the last 10 or 20 or even 30 people get to stand, and least from what I saw and experienced in Orissa. But this bus was quiet - and smooth! I was perfectly happy standing, especially since I got to smile at all the seated passengers and politely refuse their offers to squish in and share. I think they were all shocked, which I found funny. I was smiling for practically the whole hour-long trip.

I did sit down for the last bit when a young guy insisted that I take the seat next to his wife. I chatted a little with the wife and learned that they'd just been married in January, but had known each other for 6 years. She shyly but proudly told me, "It was a love marriage." I felt myself being really happy for her and congratulated her on her good fortune. A little while later I thought to myself, how interesting, I'm proud of this girl because she actually knew her husband well and even loved him, before marriage?? The arranged marriage system and the lives of women in general here are very interesting. More on that later.

At Fatehpur Sikri the 'guides' were even worse than at the Taj. This is because they can follow you into the main square and mosque (it's free), with lines like, "You need guide here, I very cheap. Only 50 rupees. No? I tell you about eveything, and if then you don't like, I don't take money OK? No?? I do not understand you Western people, you come to these places but you do not want to learn about them! This is holy place! Why do you not want my services?!" All the while I'm thinking that first of all, the purpose of most of the buildings and ruins is unknown so I'd rather not hear the fabrications, and secondly, if this is such a holy place then why are they disturbing everyone by constantly yelling at tourists? I finally looked one guy square in the face and said, in my best polite Indian accent, "Yes, this is holy place and to fully appreciate it I need to be on my own, have quiet, and have PEACE. You understand? Or do you wish for me to become vedy, vedy angry?" (Thank goodness they speak English well in the tourist hotspots; in rural Orissa this kind of speech would have gotten me nowhere.) The trick is you have stay perfectly calm and rational while verbally beating them away. Indians (as a gross generalization) love to debate, argue, and spew long strings of accusations at each other from a few inches away... but all perfectly controlled. The moment you let emotion into it, you're dismissed as irrational and rude. It's taken some getting used to. I think in some strange way, India has been my assertiveness training.

Some other highlights of Fatehpur Sikri (other than my successful interaction above) included some amazing marble lattice work (I tied a string onto one for 'good luck', but later read in Lonely Planet that it's for childless women who wish for a son... oops), getting a few good photos when the sun went down, and in the end, making friends with some of the hawkers and guides. Sans purchases!