Stanley and the security guard

So, word on the street is that I write a better blog than Mr. Barry – haha! I’ve left him crying in the corner and I have the laptop again. :-)

We drove five hours on Friday night from Delhi to Agra and stayed at the best hotel of my life, the Jaypee Palace (picture of me below in the comfy bed). The drive there was interesting to say the least. Long stretches of the road are two lanes (often with four lanes of traffic!) and you have to pull out into oncoming traffic to pass the tractors and slow-moving trucks – my nerves were shot!

On Saturday morning, we drove out to the Taj Mahal, only a mile or two from the hotel. We had a short walk to reach the entrance to the grounds, with monkeys roaming freely on the path beside us. We bought the tickets and the little white shoe covers that you have to wear inside the mausoleum, and headed for the entrance. As we went through the security scanner, the guard stopped Mr. Barry and said that he couldn’t take me in, as I was a toy.

A TOY?! A TOY?! I have feelings you know! And, more than that, I have a blog following bigger than Mr. Barry’s!

He argued a little to get me in, but the guard had a gun and he didn’t want to push it too far. So, I hung out in a nearby craft shop while the rest of the group went inside. I’ve never seen Mr. Barry so angry.

He told me later that the Taj Mahal was spectacular. It was built by the Mughal Emporer Shah Jahan, as a symbol of love for his wife, Mumtaj, after she died. It's constructed entirely from Marble, which was brought to the site by elephants from the North West of India. It took 22 years and 20,000 workers to build the Taj and the surrounding buildings. The highlight for him was the intricate pattern of gemstones that were set into the marble on the inside of the tomb. The stones (turqoise, jade, sapphire etc.) were brought from all corners of Asia to complete the design. One of them, Carnelian, is translucent and glows like it's on fire when light hits it a certain way.

Mr. Barry, pretending to be happy, but missing me really.

Next was a short rickshaw ride and then on to Agra Fort, which looks across to the Taj...

Here you can see me with the Taj Mahal in the background. Actually, this is an amazing way to see it from a different perspective, as the land around is fairly flat and the majesty of the building stands out on the horizon. (Also, it’s also the only way to see the Taj if you’re a little on the…erm…flat and colourful side!)


Here are some other pictures of people and places in India…

India Gate, Delhi

Buying peanuts on the road to Agra

The doorman of the Jaypee Palace Hotel

 
 











Gemstones inside the Taj Mahal

Until next time
Stanley

A school in Gurgaon

On Friday afternoon, the local team arranged for us to visit a primary school that is supported by Cargill. The aim of the school is to provide education for the children of migrant workers who wouldn’t ordinarily receive it. It was a modest building with three or four classrooms inside and one caged classroom out in the playground. (Caged to keep the local monkeys away from the children!)

I loved talking to one of the teachers and hearing the stories of how their organization grew over the past seven years. It was started by two elderly ladies in the village offering teaching under a tree to the children that they saw doing nothing. The work was recognised as being valuable by the local community and they gradually moved to outside classrooms with a few tables and chairs, and now to this school building. They provide a lunch to the children to guarantee at least one good meal per day.

One of the problems that the teachers explained is that once the children reach an age where they can work; their parents struggle to see the logic of education. “Why send my son to school when he can work and help to put food on the table?” So, although they don’t pay for the education, they are sacrificing the opportunity to support the family in the short-term. What an impossible choice.

Still, the work they do at the school is fantastic and all of the staff (most of which are volunteers) speak with a lot of passion about the school and the children. It’s heartening to work for an organisation that supports this kind of work.

Flat Stanley's Indian Adventure

We have a guest blogger this week...Flat Stanley...a happy little character created and coloured in by Patrick at school. The idea is that he is sent to friends/family in different places and returned to Patrick with a photograph of where he's been. Take it away Stan...

Here's me outside Qutb Minar, the oldest monument in Delhi. What you can see is just the minaret, but it was surrounded by Hindu temples and ruins, all built in the 12th and 13th centuries. Very impressive.

Mr. Barry (that's what they call him in the hotel - he thinks he's a big shot now!), his friends and me had a driver for the whole day on Sunday and he took us on a whirlwind tour of Delhi. After Qutb Minar, we made a brief stop at a craft shop, where the guy explained how they make Kashmir rugs (fascinating - it can take up to nine months to make a single rug) and then failed miserably trying to sell them to us (have you ever tried selling stuff to a 10", orange, laminated guy?).

Next stop...Humayun's Tomb, a beautiful, red sandstone building which houses the tomb of, you guessed it, Humayun. He was a Mughal Emperor who ruled India, and what is now Pakistan and Afghanistan, in the 16th century. The building and gardens are said to have inspired some elements of the Taj Mahal. (Ooh, get me - I can read wikipedia, just like Mr. Barry!)

Here's me on top of the ruins nearby the tomb. Mr. Barry was trying to look cool, like me, but actually he was a bit scared.

Part of the fun of the drive around Delhi was just watching life on the streets...the rickhaws and auto-rickshaws (which can carry more people than you'd think possible), motorbikes carrying the whole family, cows ambling among the crazy traffic, and my favourite...elephants...

Funniest moment of the trip so far...tonight we went for dinner in a nearby hotel...Mr. Barry asked where the restaurant was and they didn't understand his poor English...they sent him to the restroom. (I laughed my little, purple ass off!)
Namaste
Stan