But there are still a story or two left from India, so I will dutifully recount them:
I sadly left all my new friends in Solan on the 24th of July, especially Nidhi's family. I already miss her brother and sister - so cute and so funny when they argued - and her mother and grandmother, with whom I could never quite communicate because of the language barrier but still managed to bond through smiles and gestures. And of course Nidhi's father, who took us on all our travels and made my trip so special.
We went to Delhi again, but this time it was monsoon season and only 90 degrees - yay! Cool weather! - we took the train this time, the rickety old public transport train to Chundigar and then a superfast air conditioned train from their to Delhi. Both of them had their merits: on the train to Chundigar we shared the compartment with a group of boyscouts on their way to Delhi, and we shared cultures all the way down the mountains, i.e. sang songs together. I would sing a song in English and then they would respond with a Hindi or Punjabi song that they all shouted out (because none of them could sing). We had a great time, and every time we came to a tunnel we all screamed our heads off, according to tradition.
The train from Chundigar to Delhi was really cool - first class type treatment in a normal compartment, with lots of food and nice seats and stuff.
We spent the night in Delhi and then went to Agra to see...the Taj Mahal!
It was hot and the train there was uncomfortable, and when we got there at around 10 AM we hadn't eaten breakfast yet, so we walked around outside to try and find something to eat...and failed. There was NOWHERE to eat, and soon we had a line of mini-taxis following us asking if we wanted a ride. Nidhi's dad kept saying, "no, no, no! We don't need you!" and they kept pestering us anyway. So he finally went to the head office, and complained to the taxiboss about the annoying cabbies...and then ended up taking one of them to McDonalds after all. Nidhi and her father ate hamburgers while I watched and enjoyed the AC, and then we went sightseeing.
First we went to the Agra Fort, a massive Moghul palace of Redstone, and wandered in and out and around all these amazing rooms for the kings and queens and royalty of ancient India. It was cool to think of the idea that people actually lived there, in that manner, hundreds of years ago.
Then, on to the Taj Mahal in a horse-drawn buggy.
It was beautiful, just as spectacular as you expect it to be, especially as you see it first through a red stone and mosaic-ed arch that frames it beautifully, then walk up to in along an avenue of trees and fountains.
You take your shoes of when you go in, out of respect, and walk barefooted on the soft white marble in the hot sun around the perfectly symmetrical building. Inside it's dark and crowded with tourists, so it's not as nice as outside, but it's still interesting to see the grave of the woman who inspired this work of art. (did you know that after the architect finished the design, the king cut his hands off so there could never be anything as beautiful in the world again? Wow. That's royal.)
Nihdi and I took a nap on the Taj, it was warm and comfortable and nice...
I was dressed in a Salvaar Chemise, and everyone around us kept asking eachother (and me sometimes) whether I was Indian or not. I love how despite my blond hair and blue eyes I looked Indian enough to be mistaken. (victory!).
Back to Delhi, and then the plane in the morning.
It was so sad to leave India... I must come back sometime, something about this country touches your heart like nothing else. The cows in the streets, piles of dung covered in hay (strangely beautiful), the rivers, the mountains, the language, the people, hospitable and talkative and nice and always bragging about their country...I couldn't leave it forever.
But I could leave it for a while, if leaving it meant going home. And go home I did.
