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The Crown of Palaces: Taj Mahal

To wrap up our visit to India, we traveled to Agra in Uttar Pradesh, which is the home of the Taj Mahal. Visiting the Taj Mahal is of course one of the great rights of passage for any traveler in India. It was indeed beautiful, but the accompanying stories and craftsmanship were equally interesting. Commissioned by the Mugal leader Shah Jahan for his second and favorite wife, Arjumand Banu or Mumtaz Mahal ("The Chosen One of the Palace"). After her death giving birth to their 14th child, Shah Jahan spent the next 20 years building this mausoleum for his wife's tomb. When you see the Taj Mahal from afar, its exoticism is redolent of many images of Indian/Persian architecture. However, once you are able to see the reliefs and gemstone inlay, painstakingly consistent throughout the complex, the Taj truly does earn its name as one of the Seven Wonders of the World.

Our guide told us that Shah Jahan asked his principal architect if he could build something more grand and beautiful than the Taj Mahal. When the architect replied that he could indeed build something better, Shah Jahan had his hands cut off. Another story claims that the workers, most of whom were brought from Persia, had their tongues cut out to prevent the secrets of the mausoleum from being shared. While there is no evidence to substantiate these stories, it isn't surprising that these legends have sprung up in the midst of a fanstasical love story and architectural wonder.

My favorite shot of the Taj Mahal. 

The Great Gate entrance to the Taj Mahal Complex. The  calligraphic verse going around the floral inlay is from the Q'uran and says "O Soul, thou art at rest. Return to the Lord at peace with Him and He at peace with you." 

Striking symmetry in this photo that resonates with the detailed attention to aesthetic uniformity  present in all areas of the mausoleum.

Me on the "Princess Diana seat" that was a major attraction for the tourists. We literally had to run to sit down on it before someone else grabbed it. 

The hand-crafted, white marble relief dados (lower wall) of vegetation are intricate and lifelike.  

An example of parchin kari (inlay work) in the Taj Mahal.  Many of these were inlaid with precious or semi-precious       stones such as lapis lazuli, carnelian, agate and garnet.

Who is the fairest of them all?

Watching commercials on TV and reading billboards and magazine ads is a great way to get the pulse of popular culture. What caught my attention early in this trip was how most of the models and actresses/actors (both men and women) on TV and in print were light skinned.  I blamed this on the Bollywood- entertainment juggernaut that, much like Hollywood, has plated up very narrow constructs of beauty. However, as I talked to more people and did some research, I learned that there is a whole industry devoted to skin lightning that is undermining not only the the self esteem of darker skinned Indian men and women, but is also influencing their educational and professional futures.

In timely fashion, I read an article in the "The Times of India" that distills parents' views about how important skin color is for their children. Wealthier Indian parents are taking extreme steps to ensure fairer skinned children. You can  read the article here. I think about all the students I have met who are first generation learners, who live in poverty and have few choices about their futures. Will education or fluency in English be enough to open doors for these kids when there is additional pressure to look more Western?

Ahmedabad: A Three Hour Tour (insert Gilligan's Island theme song here)

Ahmedabad, which is 3+ hours from our home base in Rajkot, is considered to be the cultural capital of the state of Gujarat. We visited three sites: Lothal,  Gandhi's Ashram at Sabarmati and  the Adalaj Step Well

We are here during monsoon season, so the landscape is lushly green and large pools of rain water irrigate the farmland.  Our first stop on the way to Ahmedabad was the ancient city of Lothal. Dating to 2400 B.C.E., Lothal means "Land of the Dead" and was discovered in 1954. The ruins are not protected by any barriers and are out in the open at the whim of the weather. A brick was knocked loose from a building and the guide just picked it up and placed it back in the correct position. There isn't a strong sense of preservation of antiquities and many Indians I have spoken to are ashamed of this. Museums are a Western construct and it's only recently that India has began regulating and preserving artifacts and ruins. I was impressed that the ruins suggested the Harrapans had a drainage system, a commode, a charcoal filtration system for water, a grainery and bakery.

This was a dock that the Harrapan civilization created to make loading and unloading trade more efficient.

We then went to the Sabharti Ashram, also known as Gandhi's Ashram. This is where the historic Salt March began and was Gandhi's spiritual retreat.

On the grounds of the ashram.

The last place we visited was the Adalaj Step Well and it was majestic. "The Adalaj Step Well was built in 1499 by Queen Rudabai as a resting place for travelers. The step well is five stories was built to serve not only as a cultural and a utilitarian space but also as a spiritual refuge for the villagers who came every morning at the well to fill water, offer prayers to the deities carved on the walls and to interact with each other under the cool shade of the vav or step well"(Journeymart.com). Again, there is very little preservation for this site, but the intricate reliefs, shadows and light are still stunning. 

Culture Shock: The Condensed Version

I am an English as a New Language teacher. One aspect I love about my job is learning about the cultural and linguistic differences of my students. I am intrigued by the stories of their lives before coming to the U.S. and I love the tidbits of language, customs and food that I get to experience through establishing relationships with their families. I can have such an optimistic and curious attitude about all of my students' differences because I am still able to retreat back to my comfortable, American, middle class way of life. As an ENL teacher, I know the signs of culture shock in my students. I have a harder time recognizing them in myself.

There are researched and identifiable stages of culture shock (Adler & Pedersen), but these stages usually happen over several months. Since we are in India for 21 days, these stages have been condensed and maybe even intensified. I have traveled enough to know that I will eventually hit a wall as far as my ability to remain upbeat, inquisitive and patient. The moment I hit that wall is indelible; it's like a shade being drawn to darken a room. In China in 2009, that moment was standing on the train platform from our town in Jiangxu province to Shanghai, which was seven hours away. I saw a train that I thought we were going to be riding in (it had no glass in the windows, people were crammed into it and it was a double decker). After weeks of walking 3 miles a day to and from school in the tremendous heat, inhaling foul smells and pushing through a demanding teaching load, I couldn't hold it together. I started laughing and crying at the same time and couldn't stop. It was a complete emotional release. Afterwards, I got a grip and faced the rest of the trip with a settled inner peace.

On the platform getting ready to board the train to Shanghai in 2009. I'm trying hard to keep it together in this picture. 

Likewise in India, there is no retreat to the comfortable or predictable, even though our hotel is nice, our host has been kind and most of the people are friendly. However, the novelty, excitement and intoxicating otherness of the place soon wears off. Despite my desire to be an evolved and sophisticated traveler, I find myself feeling wistful. For meat. For going out in public and NOT being stared at or touched. For clean streets and traffic rules.

I have had my moment in India. I'm at the stage where "excitement may eventually give way to unpleasant feelings of frustration, and anger as one continued to experience events that may be perceived as strange and offensive to one's cultural attitude. Language barriers, stark differences in public hygiene, traffic safety, food accessibility and quality may heighten the send of disconnection from the surroundings" (Mavrides).

I have made peace with the food differences; there are things for me to eat and sustain my energy (rice biryani, bananas, pineapple, naan, tikka masala, coffee and veggie burgers). I have made peace with hiccups in communication; I am used to, and even enjoy,  using simple English and gestures to get my point across with folks who have little English. 

Traditional Gujarat-style thali (a meal made up of a variety of dishes). Rice with daal (a lentil stew you ladle over rice), ladyfingers (baby okra),  roti bread (unleavened and made from stone-ground wholemeal flour), papadum (a crispy bread), kansar (a sweet, made out of wheat flour, sugar, butter and cardamom), pickled beets.

At the Golden Arches.

It's hard to know what to choose on a menu. I usually try to ask what a few things are each time I order. 

But... there is a flip side. I realize that at this stage of my trip, I am viewing everything through my own personal filter, instead of observing as the objective outsider and learner. My personal filter is less tolerant of the smells, the casual attention to time (jokingly referred to Indian Standard Time), the constant staring and elbow ribbing/laughing at us when we are in public. I have talked to Licia (my travel bud) about these feelings and she pointed out that where we are both from, we have diversity and as educators, an ingrained sense of professional, if not personal, acceptance of differences. I know this intellectually, but the affective part of me is stubbornly refusing to acquiesce. 

I travel BECAUSE it takes me out of my comfort zone and challenges me in a way nothing else can. It is the fortitude and stoicism that I find inside myself that is the reward of this experience. I am humbled by how much I don't know about the world.  

The frustrations I feel now will undoubtedly turn into humorous stories and treasured memories once I get back. I'm still not going to feel bad about wanting a cheeseburger, though. :-)

Bapu

Bapu is what Indians call Mohandas Gandhi and it means "father." Today, we explored places in Rajkot that were important to Gandhi's early life. We had a student-led tour, courtesy of Aarnav, Dhruv and Aaryaa. They were chosen by their Gujarati teacher, Reena, to help translate.

Aarnav (6th grade) , Dhruv and Aaryaa (5th grade) worked hard as our guides and translators to Alfred High School, Gandhi's Rajkot home and the clothing factory. 

We visited the high school he attended in Rajkot, Alfred High School. This school is now a government school for the children of laborers. When Gandhi attended, it was an English medium school. However, after India gained independence from Britain, it became a Gujarati only school (as it is today). It's worthwhile to note that today, learning English is one of the few paths of upward mobility. Gandhi championed the poor and wanted equality for all, but it seems ironic that his alma mater is not able to provide English to the lower income students.

We saw Gandhi's school records and discovered that he was an average to below average student. That goes to show what many of us teachers already know... grades don't give the whole picture of a person's potential. Next, we visited the home where he and his family lived. It has been designated a national landmark and is a museum that highlights Gandhi's birth through death.

A classroom in Alfred High School.

The entrance to Gandhi's childhood home in Rajkot. 

Some random facts:

• Gandhi wanted Muslims and Hindus to remain unified as India sought its independence; however, Pakistan became its own country in 1947.
• The The Salt March was a major event in Gandhi's civil disobedience against British rule. The British didn't allow Indian citizens to collect or sell salt so the British could heavily tax it. A picture of Gandhi picking up salt from the ground became an iconic image worldwide to highlight the campaign for Indian independence. 
• Ghandi's children took issue with his parenting, and rebelled against his piety. The movie Gandhi, My Father, which was released in 2007, received a lot public outcry because it criticized Gandhi, whose life and person are beyond reproach to many Indian people. 
• After his death, Mohandas Gandhi became known as Mahatma Gandhi, which means a person of high esteem or a sage. 

Since Gandhi spun cloth on a loom for the poor while he was on a hunger strike, we visited a local shop that sells cloth spun in the same way it was done 100 years ago.

A woman spinning who will get four rupees for each batch of thread she weaves onto the wheel. 

In & Around Rajkot

Rajkot is not a tourist destination. It is primarily an industrial business center in Gujarat; therefore, most attractions are 3-4 hours away. We wanted to go to Gir National Park, which is the only place to see endangered Asiatic lions, but all the national parks, forests and animal preserves are closed for monsoon season. I was excited to see an elephant on the side of the road today as we were driving to school. The elephant belonged to a temple in Ahmedabad and a priest came to Rajkot with the elephant to make money by charging people to climb on or take pictures with the elephant. Most locals were giving 10 rupees (which is less than a penny), but since we were "foreigners," the priest asked us to pay 500 rupees (about $8). We ended up giving him 20 rupees. I also noticed that the admission fee at the local natural history museum was different for "foreigners" vs. Indians. I can't help but admire their capitalist approach.

Elephant on the side of the road...not something you see everyday. 

He's been trained to nudge your leg or hand.

We went to the Dharminder market today in old Rajkot. The market is labyrinthian, with each narrow lane specializing in fabric, jewelry, silver or utensils. While Rajkot is not a tourist destination, I found so much life and vibrancy in this market. It was men peering out of their shop stalls to stare at us or women encouraging their little kids to say "hello." It was the the smell of incense and engine exhaust. It was a cow seeking shelter from the rain under a shop's awning. It was the horn of a tuk tuk urging us to get out of the way when there really was nowhere to go. It was the streams of rainwater pouring off crooked roofs of ramshackle buildings. It was a menagerie of silk, embroidery, sequins and rhinestones. Rajkot may not be a place I would have chosen to go, but these little glimpses of otherness are awesome. 

Choosing some hand-sewn fabric. 

A lane in Dharminder market. 

The cow doesn't like the rain.