India
My first visit to India began in New Delhi and quickly transitioned to Agra, home of the Taj Mahal. During our five-hour mini-bus ride to Agra, one of my travel companions took a picture of a monkey at a rest stop. The monkey’s owner demanded the equivalent of one U.S. dollar for the privilege of the photo. When the photographer refused, a group of locals began to shake the mini-bus threatening to flip the vehicle. The photographing tourist paid up.
There were armed guards at the toll booths, driving in lanes are optional, and beeping your car horn is a requirement. Expect at least an hour to drive anywhere (just like Los Angeles), and the juxtaposition of high tech with extreme poverty is common.
One day in Mumbai, following in the footsteps of Brazilian photographer, Sebastião Salgado (who I met one evening in Singapore), I spent an hour inside Churchgate Station. I watched the trains come and go, and quietly spied on commuters arriving every few minutes. That day was one of the more mesmerizing experiences of my global travels.
