PCV: Paid Caribbean Vacation

The strangest thing about India is the Taj Mahal. Now you may be thinking to yourself that this is not true because India is not India without the Taj. This might be true but it’s a building that almost doesn’t belong. All around the Taj and the city of Agra is poverty. There are beggars on every corner. People sleeping on the street are not uncommon. Then as you walk along a dirt road you find pure paradise. From extreme filth to a posh you can’t comprehend. The symbolism of the buildings and the balance that the building has is a spectacle that architects today should be jealous of. 350 years ago, they did it right the first time, there was no need to go on and make renovations or anything to come close. The Taj Mahal is in a word perfection. And the coolest thing is that it was created by a king who made a vow to his dead wife that he would build her the most beautiful tomb the world has ever seen for birthing him 14 children. The building took 22 years to make and it was made entirely of white marble. It’s a sacred ground and although a tourist attraction, something they still take very seriously. I found it interesting that it costs locals 20 rupees (50 cents) to get in and it costs “foreign nationals” 750 rupees (about $18). Call it redistributing the wealth and get over it. There we were at the Taj, we had traveled for about 10 hours to get there and we stayed for 2 hours only to turn around and prepare ourselves for another 8 hours of traveling before getting to our next destination.
While the Taj was something to see and I’m glad I saw it, I don’t think I ever need to go back. It’s not that great. It’s a building and more than anything it just paints the picture that we are somehow better than the rest. Upon leaving the fort that protects the Taj, you are surrounded by hawkers. The saddest part is most of them only speak enough English to sell you something. When a friend asked them who they were selling for, the only thing that they understood was how to lower the price of the album they were selling. It was hard to think that for the most part, we would never come learn anything about each other and for the most part, he didn’t care. I wasn’t a person to him, just another white person there to spend money. It was interesting to see that on the other side because so often we look at poor people and only think of them as another bum on the street. To be discredited the same way is something I may never forget. The Taj was beautiful but it was the heart wrenching things going on outside the ruined it and took the beauty away from it. I don’t blame the kids; I just wish we could have learned more about each other instead of making brash judgments on me being the rich white kid and him being the Indian kid trying to sell a measly book.