Riding through the crowded streets of Jaipur in our air-conditioned minibus, the jaw-dropping scenes unfolded one after another. One that really caught our collective eye was a dilapidated bus with about 30 people sprawled across the roof, nearly every square inch occupied. Inside was jam-packed, too, on this 115-degree day.
We took pictures of the roof riders as they waved and smiled. For them, it was all part of daily life in India. For our Globus FAM group, the spectacle was one of the bewildering sights that kept us on the edge of our seats. It was a slice of the real India, the India that stays with you, the India you tell others about after a mesmerizing trip to the subcontinent of Asia.
On the six-hour drive from Agra to Jaipur, one of my favorite experiences, I kept my nose glued to the window, not wanting to miss a moment of the passing parade—camel carts and oxcarts, mango and banana vendors, stuffed-to-the-gills Jeeps with boys hanging off the back, rickshaw drivers pedaling through impossible traffic. Stray cows and dogs wander the streets, monkeys scamper across rooftops and boys herd water buffalo (prized for their milk). And you want to get a picture of every woman gracefully draped in a turquoise, chartreuse, magenta or saffron sari—exclamation points in the stream of pedestrians spilling onto roadways.