Living Two Hours Away from a Wonder of the World
When I first saw the Taj Mahal, I was completely blown away. I would say it took my breath away, but the AQI being 200 points better than it was in my new home of Gurgaon made me feel sharper than I had in weeks. It was hard to believe that I was standing there before one of the Seven Wonders of the Modern World. The grand white structure against the beautiful blue sky stood as a giant testament to one of history’s most famous love stories.
I feel so lucky for the way in which I’ve gotten to experience the Taj Mahal. Now that I’ve been in India for a month and a half, I’m completely over the jet lag. I have started to feel more comfortable in the constant crowds – the constant beeps of auto drivers not causing me to feel so overwhelmed anymore. Now, it just serves as the background hum of life in India for me. I now crave Indian flavors, and eating a non-Indian meal can feel odd at times. Everyday I learn so much, and there are infinite things for me to learn still, yet I feel like I have far more of a grasp on this diverse and beautiful country than I did when I first landed in Delhi on October 13th.
I also felt fortunate for my placement in Gurgaon as this trip to the Taj Mahal would be a day trip. It feels special to wake up in your own bed, shower, get ready with all of your items at your fingertips, see a Wonder of the World, and then return home before the day is over. It feels like a gift to experience this structure in a way that feels quite cozy. It also provides a sense that I am becoming a part of the landscape in my life abroad. What an incredible experience it is to see the Taj Mahal as a casual Saturday outing. In my opinion, this makes it all the more special.
I have been very lucky in getting to travel to a variety of places across the world from Guadalajara, Jalisco, Mexico to Reims, Grand Est, France now to Gurgaon, Haryana, India. While clothes and customs and food change, I find myself comforted with the baseline sense of normalcy that everything at its core is the same. It’s serving the same purposes. If we come to the basics, these cities emerge out of a need to provide for people’s livelihoods. It’s the histories and the landscapes that paint a different background depending on where you are. While it is fun to see the different dressings of places across the world, I always get the feeling that people are what really make my experience when traveling. Whether it is people you meet that are from there or fellow travelers, there is a special bond that is created in these unique situations that cannot be recreated. That is often what I remember most about my travels.
Boarding the Train from Agra
When fellow traveler Carlos and I boarded the train at the Agra Cantt station to return to Delhi, we headed for our seats 34 and 35; yet, there was someone already sitting in seat 34. After looking in the next car to see if we had misunderstood where we were supposed to be and seeing that those seats were also full, we realized that the previous car was the correct one. We went back and told the older gentleman in seat 34 that he was sitting in one of our seats. He started to get up, explaining that his seat was actually seat 22, but he had sat there next to his wife as they were unable to get seats next to each other upon booking. In an attempt to be respectful, I told them to stay put, and Carlos and I could sit separately. I told the man I would take his real seat of 22, and he could remain seated next to his wife. Carlos and I then took our new, respective seats, rows away.
When I had sat down in seat 22, I quickly realized I had done that out of respect, but I had also done it to avoid confrontation. The train car was so quiet except for us trying to find our seats, and I did not want it to turn into a situation asking an older couple to move for me. Once I had sat down, I realized that I was sad that I had done that. I tried to rationalize in my mind, telling myself that it was the respectful action to take. Yet Carlos was visiting Delhi from Gujarat for only 48 hours, and the two hours that it would take us to get back to Delhi felt like precious time. I was sitting there, slightly sad and just letting my feelings simmer.
When I had initially taken my seat next to the Uncle and Auntie in my new row, I had greeted them. They asked what I was doing there, and I told them, “Maine Taj Mahal dekhi” (I saw the Taj Mahal). I have had many conversations like this that have faltered after a minimal exchange, primarily due to my little Hindi. We exchanged pleasantries and then went back to sitting quietly. I was just sitting there for a little bit, trying to decompress a bit. I had just spent the entire day traveling with no time for processing, so I tried to take this opportunity to ground myself a bit. My phone was dying, but I sent my family a picture of myself in front of the Taj Mahal. I then put an airpod in and tried to let Sufjan Stevens serve as the background symphony for the trip back.
Pollution as a Common Enemy
One of the hardest adjustments I have been facing living in Haryana is dealing with the extremely high levels of air pollution. As we enter the winter months in Delhi, the air quality has been growing worse and worse. With this, I have been facing lots of trouble with headaches, fatigue, throat soreness, and most notably, a horrible cough that I just cannot get rid of. On the train, I could feel a coughing fit coming on, and I knew there was nothing to do about it except to just cough until the tickle in my throat went away. There is a sense of embarrassment I feel when everything is silent except my bursts of coughing, but often it is soon met with others coughing as well – a reminder that this is a larger public health problem that is affecting everyone around me.
Towards the end of my coughing fit, the Auntie started coughing as well. She caught my attention with a hand gesture and asked if I was doing alright. I indicated that I was okay. Then, she asked what country I was from, and we started to engage in light conversation. It seemed that they were pleasantly surprised with my very limited Hindi. They asked how long I had been there and when I would be leaving. I was still not in the best mood. I was semi-annoyed with myself and feeling like a push-over for giving up my seat. I was exhausted from seeing the Taj Mahal and the Red Fort of Agra. I was sad to be separated from my friend. Yet I could feel their curiosity and desire for conversation, and I didn’t want to be rude. And I also knew that this would be a lot more pleasant of an experience if I leaned into making the most of what was in front of me rather than dwelling on negative feelings.
Making Lemonade out of Lemons or …. Chai out of Ginger
The chai wala came around, pouring hot water into cups and passing them out with instant packets of different flavored chai. The auntie and uncle got a cup, and they asked me if I wanted one. Honestly, I didn’t really want any chai, and if I was left to my own devices I wouldn’t have had the courage to stop the wala and ask for some anyway, but I figured this was an easy way to make a connection with them. So I nodded in agreement for a cup of chai, and they asked the wala to pour a cup for me. I kept my AirPod out and kept the door open for conversation.
Once the wala handed me the cup and I had stirred in my packet, the Uncle asked how it was, and I said it was “yummy”. As I was taking my initial sips, I quickly realized I may have made a mistake in accepting the chai as I only had a 500 rupee bill in my wallet and breaking it would be a hassle. I also felt another sense of anxiety creep in as I didn’t want to be rude and assume they were going to pay, but I am still attempting to understand the cultural differences, and I did not want to insult them in offering to pay either. As I was drinking my chai, I put my AirPod away in my purse, and the Uncle thought I was reaching for money, and he told me he was going to pay. That solved that problem, and when the wala came to collect the payment for our three cups of chai, I thanked them. I was thinking about how the easier option would have been to not deal with this mild uncomfortable exchange, but isn’t that what this entire fellowship experience is about? It is all about putting myself in new situations, without fully understanding them in order to learn. There is a grace given by both parties in order to learn and have our curiosities met. It was worth it to be slightly confused and not sure what the “socially appropriate” thing to do in this situation was. Not to mention, I was now much happier with my yummy cup of chai.
The woman in the aisle across from us clearly had her interest piqued in our conversation, and her and the Auntie started talking. I couldn’t understand what was being said, but I could tell that I was a part of the discussion. The woman on the other side of me was talking to me about how she has family in Chicago. She put me on the phone with her 11 year old son who knew where Ohio was to talk about life in the States. Then, the section of people was talking about Ohio, which made me laugh because it is not the most exciting state, and here was a group of people on the complete other side of the planet all talking about it.
After we had finished our chai, the Auntie and Uncle were talking amongst themselves, and I had resigned myself to sitting there without my AirPod in my ear in case they wanted to talk. I felt like the chai was a step towards connection, and I did not want to seem rude by closing myself off and putting in headphones. During this time, I was thinking about how I feel particularly introverted in foreign settings. I have felt this at my host organization’s office. Where typically I may feel more comfortable reaching out to people and putting myself out there, I feel more nervous of committing a social faux pas or offending others. This then results in me being much more quiet than normal even when I am interested or curious about situations. I was reflecting on how many people have asked me for photos or asked me about where I’m from in the month and a half since I have been here. I personally don’t mind this, and often I appreciate it as most of the time I feel it is coming from a place of genuine curiosity and a desire to know more about others. I was thinking about how I felt nervous to engage with the Auntie and Uncle further, but it was worth a try. If they did not want to talk to me, they could let me know.
An Impromptu Hindi Lesson
I thought about how I needed to do my Duolingo lesson for the day, and I thought this was a perfect way to bond with them. So I pulled up my next Hindi lesson, and I told them this was how I practice Hindi. I showed them my phone, and we started doing the exercises together. While the lesson started with reviewing colors and adjectives in basic sentences, it quickly turned not so nice when one of the sentences to translate was “You are fat.” And it used “tum” which is the non-formal version of you. If I was going to call a complete stranger fat, I would prefer to do it semi-politely. I was reading the sentences out loud, and I paused when I realized what this one said. But then all three of us laughed. I was just imagining it from the perspective of other people in front of us on the train who just heard a foreigner talking to an older couple saying “You are fat” in Hindi. But the Uncle read it with such confidence, and then he approved of my pronunciation of this less than kind sentence. We made it through the lesson with a perfect score, and I felt like this was a really nice way to practice speaking and pronunciation. It also gave us an opportunity to bond across our language barriers.
As we continued talking, I was thinking how this was the most extensive Hindi practice I’ve gotten since being in India. The Auntie did not speak any English, and the Uncle only spoke a little bit of English. With my “tora tora” (little little) Hindi, and his “tora tora” English, it forced me to practice and not just switch to English which often happens. There were probably a million nuances to the conversation which I missed, but overall, I could feel the excitement and desire for conversation from both ends. We spoke about how they live in Delhi, and they were also visiting the Taj Mahal for the day. We also talked about what I am doing in India in general.
I showed them the AQI in Gurgaon, Haryana which was just under 400, and then I showed them the AQI in Cleveland, Ohio, where I am from, and it was 12. Earlier that week, I saw on social media that it was snowing in the Midwest, and I asked my parents to send a picture of our home with the snow. I showed this to my seat mates, and then I showed them the pictures of my parent’s bille aur kuta (cat and dog). This made them laugh, and it felt nice to show them the pets that I was missing. I keep joking with my Mom and Dad that I can’t believe that our dog is living a life of luxury at home compared to the dogs I see here, and how Sadie, our dog, would never make it on the streets of Delhi.
To continue our lesson, I was pointing at different objects on the train, such as “shoe” or “chair”, and they were translating them for me. The uncle pointed to his wife’s bangles, and I confidently pronounced it wrong, but I was close. The “r” sounds are quite difficult for me. I told her I knew this word only from Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham’s song “Bole Chudiyan”. We then both started singing the chorus. I pointed to the earrings I was wearing and showed off my knowledge that these were called jhumkas. She then started singing to “What Jhumka?” And I hummed along.
The Uncle had been playing Sudoku in the newspaper that he had, and when he had pronounced “newspaper” in Hindi, I wrote it down in Devanagari to see if I had understood it. Then he asked if I knew the alphabet and started writing those along with the matras. Then we started playing a game where he was pointing out body parts and getting me to memorize them. We were pointing to our nose, ear, hair, tongue, mouth, knee, and hand, and I was trying to keep up. He then wrote them down on the newspaper over the cartoons, and I was matching them to the correct body part. I was really enjoying our impromptu Hindi lesson, and I was actually learning vocabulary.
A Special and Momentary Connection
The Auntie asked if I was enjoying India. Enthusiastically, I told her how much I was enjoying my time here. As my vocabulary is so limited, I am forced to get creative in how I express myself. I could convey three very basic sentiments. “Khana bahut accha, log kind aur welcoming hai, aur kapda sundar hai.” Or “The food is very good, the people are kind and welcoming, and the clothes are beautiful.” These child-like sentences cannot capture the complexity of the emotions I am feeling immersing myself in an entirely new culture, but I could see it brought her joy to have her culture and country complimented in this way. She thanked me for this, and I felt happy that I could even slightly convey my appreciation and excitement to be there.
After almost two hours of attempted conversation, I realized that we didn’t know each other’s names when the Auntie asked for mine. I gave her my name, and I asked for hers, which she told me was Manorma. When I called her Manorma Ji as a sign of respect, she laughed as this clearly tickled her. The Uncle told me his name was Jug Mohan. I asked them if I could take a selfie, and they agreed. Then Jug Mohan Ji pulled out his phone and attempted to take a selfie of the three of us. The angle at which he was holding the phone was making me laugh, but we eventually got it to work.
Even though our conversation could not make it past very basic sentences, I really enjoyed this connection on the train from Agra to Delhi. It felt special, and it reignited a desire for me to put more of an effort into my Hindi practice. I was also thinking about how that connection would not have been possible if I didn’t speak any Hindi at all. Sure, my Hindi is very basic, but it gave me that very special experience and connection. It felt like a sign that my hard work is paying off, even if the tangible progress is incremental.
While the train was slowing down as we were reaching the Hazrat Nizamuddin train station in Delhi, we bid each other farewell, and shook hands. The last sentence they taught me was “I learned Hindi from Indian Uncle”. I thanked them for the impromptu Hindi lesson, and they gave me the newspaper that my new vocabulary was written on. As the train reached the platform, they asked where my friend was. I told them he was a few rows ahead, and I would wait for him to get off the train. We exchanged smiles and well wishes, and eventually, I watched them disappear into the deluge of people in Delhi, and I felt grateful for that momentary connection.
After an extremely busy day of travel, I felt so happy to have had these two hours with Manorma and Jug Mohan where we shared culture, curiosity, and conversation. While the beauty of the Taj Mahal cannot be expressed in words or photos, this human connection felt like the perfect end to the day.
