A home for mentally handicapped people, elderly destitutes and orphans run by the Missionaries of Charity ...
Delicious buffet lunch and "battery rechargingat a 5-star hotel near the Taj ...
Two magical hours at the Taj ...
Several 5x7 photos of us taken by a licensed photographer at the Taj, only $2.20 each and worth much more to us ...
A visit to a government-run workshop for artists creating works of art using the same marble inlay techniques employed by their ancestors when creating the Taj ...
A frenetic but productive half hour in a shop filled of affordable handicrafts, including Peter's long-awaited marble Taj Mahal replica ...
A brief but eye-opening wait on a platform at the Agra train station where dozens of street children harassed us for food and money. We were waiting with a representative of the company that supplied our car and guide. He told us that most of the children were addicted to drugs, especially inhalants. We found this hard to believe. They were so young!
Then, right in front of us walking a pretty little girl of 8 or 9 in dirty clothes, with tangled hair, and covered in grime from top to bottom. She had a ragged dupatta (scarf) around her neck and was holding one end of it to her nose. I thought she was wiping her nose or using the cloth to block out the nasty smells that pervade many train stations. Then the representative pointed out the dried Wite-Out all over the girl's hands. Apparently this is the cheapest and most accessible inhalant. It was heartbreaking.
India. The Taj, ever luminous and breath-catching. A little girl far from home begging for food and huffing Wite-Out. And in between? A whole universe of humanity, beside us and around us and within us.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
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