First of all, I know, I know...I need to post pictures.
Second, staying at "home" tonight while others are out on adventures. Not feeling well, either because I'm actually coming down with something or perhaps as side-effects of typhoid meds completed a few days ago. Nothing like live typhoid in your body! So I'm doing laundry in the sink, a vastly underrated pasttime, and trying to connect with Liv and Ruby on Google video chat. Nothing doing. Apparently THEY are having way more fun than I am. Good.
So today: 7:00 a.m. departure feels unholy after our leisurely 9:00 or 9:30 starts. We are down to business now. First stop was the World Heritage site, Humayun's Tomb. He was the 2nd Moghul king, so think 16th century, after Babur. His life was unremarkable compared to some of the big names that came before and after, but his 1565 red tomb is a "perfect" example of Moghul architecture, according to Nitin, our guide. Not a great example, but a perfect one. To extend the point, Nitin described the Taj Mahal as a great example, but not a perfect one. Indeed, the gardens of this complex were marked off by decorative channels of erstwhile running water, like fountains without the spray. No streams today, but features like the double dome (interior smaller than exterior, logically) and the side buildings where Humayun's barber is rumored to be buried, impress. The buildings were built with rubble, so were the red sandstone structures we saw later at the famed Qutab Minar complex. Then the rubble was covered with a layer of whatever more glamourous stone the designers/builders wished. Humayun's tomb is in beautiful shape, not so much the outbuildings at the Qutab Minar, which at 73 meters looks like a giant minaret. The British put a final level on it, but eventually had to take it down. It now sits on the grass like a too-small gazebo, and is named "____________'s Folly" after the knucklehead who thought topping this 1193 structure with one more layer would somehow promote the Union Jack even more. There is also an iron pillar in one of the central courtyards. It's remarkable because it's over 1700 years old and without rust, except for the spot where folks used to rub their backs for good luck. All that sweat got corrosive over time. But this pillar shows the high level of precision former artisans had--that is pretty flawless iron to hold up so well over the centuries.
We also went to the Bahai Temple, also known as the Lotus Temple. Take a look and see if you can figure out why it's called that. It's a house of meditation, open to all faiths. The Bahai faith started in 1888 in Iran and has about 400-500,000 followers in India, mostly in Delhi, according to the estimates of our project leader. It was designed by a Canadian architect who spent 10 years planning the structure. It has 3 rows of 9 petals, the first two of which curve inward "embracing the inner dome" (according to our program summary), while the outer layer curves out over each of the 9 entrances, signifiying the 8 main faiths (Islam, Buddhism, Jainism, Hinduism, Christianity, Judiasm, Zoroastriansim, and...I'm leaving someone out. oops.) So there are 9 arches and 9 reflecting pools that further reflect this symbolic thinking. The meditation there was lovely, quiet and very personal. I liked it.
Then we went to lunch at the Centre for Cultural Research and Training, a government-funded initiative that grants 500+ scholarships a year for kids to pursue traditional cultural arts/endeavors with tutors/experts outside their regular school day. They also provide training to teachers in curriculum, methodology and content to promote integration of cultural components in everyday school life. We all bought great materials to bring back to our schools. These folks produce really nice DVDs, CDs and books about traditional dance, architecture, painting, puppetry, etc. We had a delicious lunch--will I miss northern Indian food?--at the Center, then had tutorials with craftspeople. I made beaded jewelry and realized that dimension of my skills hadn't evolved at all since 6th grade camp. But the teacher, Reza, was lovely and stern and patient, all at once. Then we were treated to Odissi dance, a style from the east of India, just south of Bengal. The woman who guided the talk is apparently a national treasure herself. She's won every bit of acclaim here in India and several international citations for achievement in this art form. Her granddaughter wowed us today with her rendition of some Hindu stories (forget if they were from Ramayana or one of the other Vedas). She was so beautiful and precise and expressive--she truly spoke to us in the language of dance, and we were able to understand.
Laundry's all done. I've figured out more about the pictures, so I'll try to upload now!
Which direction do the toilets flush? :)
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