Small crisis

It was a difficult day; I spent 8 hrs on a bus, got to Agra, got ripped off by a rickshaw driver and got furious – to make a long story short, we had an argument, he became aggressive and at a certain moment I thought we will (or better to say they will - the driver and his two friends from a ‘travel office’ he brought me to instead of going to my hostel) start a fight in the street :/

We were standing in the middle of the street yelling at each other. The whole situation was really awkward. And once again I felt that India is not really my place on earth ;) I’ve been to few countries, I thought I know how to talk to the tuk-tuk drivers, but no, India is like a whole different planet of touts and scam (no offence, that’s just my observation).

On the brighter side, I managed to walk around, had a nice dinner with some Belgian people I met on my way, been to a rooftop restaurant run by a Muslim family and to my great surprise they sold me a beer! :) So, after 3 days in India I had my first Kingfisher beer, a cigarette, I was looking at the Taj Mahal at sunset and thought, that - all in all - these annoyances I’m facing here will make it a trip to remember...

What did I learn today? That Muslims can be more tolerant and polite and well-mannered than Hindus (and I am not only referring to the beer ;) The Afghani family I met on the bus to Agra was Islamic (7 people in total – mother, father, little Mustafa – 1,5 year old :) and four cousins: a couple and two guys - more or less my age) and they were respectful, nice, polite, we had a very interesting conversation about the current political situation – some nice, regular small-talk. One of the guys told me basically the story of his life (8hrs is a long time ;) He said that as far as he remembered, the war and fights were always there. During the years of the Taliban he and part of the family moved to Pakistan where he also finished his studies. He had high hopes for the future of the country – and was praising the American peacekeepers. It’s an interesting point, we in the EU (in the U.S. as well) have a big discussion on withdrawing the troops, but I could see that for that particular man the allies meant security and peace-keeping and, what maybe even more important, ‘normality’-keeping (well, what’s normal... – I mean by that maintaining the conditions that can lead to a development of the country). What I would like to emphasize again, they were Muslims, but still, they were really afraid of the Islamic extremists. For me it was a bit like I was facing my own prejudice and I was on my personal way to dispell and demythologize stereotypes related to Islam.

His family had roots in Uzbekistan and he knew 6 foreign languages (of this region of the world plus English). The whole family spoke an excellent English. It was a wealthy family – I could tell, the father worked for the public administration (high level). The kid wanted to play with me and his mom (traditionally dressed in hijab) let him. The little Mustafa was so cute - his favorite ‘game’ on the bus was to take his cousins’ sunglasses and bring to me – I think it’s a sign of appreciation ;) The point is, that they family was treating me fully normally and friendly, which I haven’t experienced from the Indian people.



I still didn’t figure out what to do next. Well, I wanted to go to Khajuraho by bus, but apparently (and contrary to what I’ve read on the LP) there are no buses on that route. And so, I will go by train – it’s a night train which I actually wanted to avoid. So, tomorrow I’m sightseeing in Agra and getting on the train at midnight.