Flipping the Coin: Agra

Before going to the Taj Mahal, I was told by many people that Agra, the town in which it resides, was not a great place.

It’s usually said with the same tone of voice you hear about so many destinations and their contexts. Despite the tolerance and openmindedness universities are supposed to instill, town gown relations inevitably involve diminutive expressions like “townies,” and a whole of buts   The University of Chicago is great....but Hyde Park is dangerous.  Notre Dame is beautiful….but South Bend sucks.  Why does Disney World have to be in Orlando? Visiting the Pyramids would be better if it weren’t for, you know, Egypt…

Tourists checking out the Taj while a
street dog sleeps in the sand

It’s not that there’s nothing to this.  I have exactly 0 desire to live in Orlando. I wouldn’t probably have chosen to live in South Bend or Hyde Park if not for my educational choices.  But I can’t help feeling that there’s always a certain undertone of disdain, for lack of a better word, for local residents that always makes me a little uncomfortable. 

The tourist industry complies with consumer preferences for beauty without a downside. They provide luxury hotels, onsite properties, private transport, and often employ migrant staff from different countries or regions that minimize the amount of interaction seekers of beauty, thrills, and photo-worthy vistas have to have with the population at large.  And the cost of enjoying the attraction are often so prohibitive that neighbors cannot possibly afford to take advantage.

But the divide between destinations and their settings not realistic or genuine.  There is a historical reason why attractions and there environments are as they are; they have evolved in tandem. In some cases, surrounding areas reflect a wider regional social/economic context. In others, I suspect that the competitiveness endemic to the tourism area has driven wages down, even as prices increase, leading to a more impoverished areas that would otherwise exist. 

Photo credit: My roommate

For example, we toured a small workshop where a handful of men carve marble and apply semiprecious stones using the same techniques used to ornament the Taj Mahal. Our guide told us with a weird touch of pride that the craftsman only have 10-15 year careers before their eyesight is lost to years of microscopic semiprecious stone and marble flecks, and their hands to years of minute work and scrapes with grinders.  That didn’t make me appreciate their work more…I found it unsettling to know what it really costs. In the name of honesty, I'll admit I  caved to sales pressure and guilt and bought a couple of very small items, meanwhile unsure of the extent to which I was supporting local craftsmen or supporting their exploitation. 

I’m  impossibly obsessed with seeing and understanding the world as it is. And so, in Agra, I kept my eyes open. It certainly isn’t a pretty town unto itself.  The market areas felt like Juba and the hostels and harassment reminded me of Cairo and Luxor. It’s certainly a microcosm of a lot of India, and a side I don’t see traveling to and from work or touring in New Delhi.  During my less than 24 hours in Agra, I saw some real life alongside all that white marble.

The Yamuna Riverbed

I saw a sad river desperately in need of rain, nomadic herders, small-scale agricultural workers living in grass huts, and from a distance, slums. I saw too-skinny children, malnourished horses, cows and other creatures. I looked away from beggars, giving away a little bit of my humanity but none of my change as I considered whether I would be genuinely helping or hurting them. 

Just a few yards down from the Taj Mahal, I saw from across the river what I am 90% sure was a series of funeral pyres on which Hindus were being ritually cremated before, probably, being scattered in the river. I saw a body, wrapped in a sheet being carried towards the river on a stretcher, presumably for the same end.  In short, I saw, but couldn't  hope to understand or engage with people living some of the more difficult pieces of life in the shadow of one of the most-visited, most beautiful attractions in the world.

In my effort to understand, it's tempting to get caught up in pity, romanticism, or other false projections of my preconceptions onto what I saw....I've already done that enough. But I keep reminding myself that I only had a brief glance into a window into others' lives. No more.  What I saw does (and should) provide a little more food for thought as to my place in India and how my choices might affect others, although few good answers.

Earlier, I had a chance to visit the national museum to Gandhi.  His talisman is fitting for life on both sides of the coin. It doesn’t provide much ease but does give a bit of aspirational clarity.