Previously, I vented some frustration with the Theme Garden. Today, Tumblr took some serious strides that address much of my criticism. I applaud that.

But now, I’ve got an unexpected problem. My latest theme, Undercover Operative, was rejected with the feedback, “Does not fit accepted Tumblr blog aethetics.”

At least I know the ball’s back in my court. Unfortunately, the feedback offers me little direction on how to proceed. Accepted aethetics? Does that mean the theme’s concept is flawed or the moderator just flat out didn’t like it? If either’s the case, I probably can’t fix it and should just move on to something else. On the other hand, if it means the color palette was displeasing or one of the theme’s graphics was tweeked or it rendered as garbage in some popular browser, then I could possibly rectify the deficiency and resubmit. I need some specifics.

Before I dash off an email to Tumblr support asking for clarification, does anyone out there have an opinion on what’s wrong with my theme (clicking on the image will take you to it)?

The Taj Mahal Experience [The India Trip - 6 of 6] — (Photo taken 2004-07-01)

We got started for Agra around 5:30am. It’s a four hour drive from Delhi. Along the way …

• Besides the run-of-the-mill horse-drawn, donkey-drawn, and cattle-drawn carts, we saw examples of water buffalo-drawn and camel-drawn ones too. No elephants though.
• The road we were on was a divided, two-lanes-each-way highway. At one point, oncoming traffic started barreling down on us using our fast lane. Their side of the highway apparently was closed and they had been routed to our side., There had been no signs or cones or any other warning to inform cars moving in our direction.
• At one point, I saw a whole line of ladies walking with water urns on their heads just like at the end of Disney’s Jungle Book, except they were doing it down the median of the highway.
• There were several points along the way where tolls had to be paid. At one such point, our driver parked and went off to pay the tolls. Near us were three or four monkeys and two bears. All were on ropes with handlers. My buddy got out to pet a monkey and take a couple pictures. The guy had him stand astride the bear, and one of them took a picture with his camera. When it was time to get back in the car, the guy demanded 1000 rupees for the privilege. My buddy managed to get away for only 100 rupees.

As soon as we parked near the Taj Mahal, hawkers and “official” guides mobbed the car. We managed to make our way clear of most of them, though a couple of the guides insisted on pacing us for the half-mile stroll to the entrance. During the walk they repeatedly tried to convince us that our driver was only going to rip us off and that we should avail ourselves of their services. Our driver was one of the school’s regular drivers. We knew he was a stand-up guy. My buddy got fed up with the insults and told them to bugger off in less than friendly terms. That seemed to get through to them, and they finally wandered off.

>Ticket price to enter Taj Mahal was 20 rupees for Indians. For non-Indians, the rate was 700 rupees.

We cleared the first guard point and were on our way through the second when one of the guards realized that my buddy was carrying a Palm Pilot. As far as the guard was concerned, that device fell under the same category as cell phones, which are forbidden. We tromped back through the first check point, found a locker where he could leave the Pilot, and then passed through the screening again.

Just after the first check point is a wide courtyard. It was home to a dozen or so photographers. Like the other hawkers, they quickly descended on us. One of them had the sense to hit us with a soft sell, and we agreed to his pitch. He took us to the spot where the geometry works out such that one looks like they’re touching the tip of the dome. On our way out, we picked up our prints.

We had to remove our shoes before approaching the Taj Mahal proper. It was around 1:00PM on 100+°F day, so the temperature was not entirely pleasant on bare feet. Surprisingly, it was more bearable walking on the marble than on the burlap carpets.

Going inside the building, another “official” guide glommed onto us. This one was actually pleasant. He explained to us where all the different inlay materials came from and demonstrated how several of them were translucent when exposed to light. He also rattled off the site’s history and showed us about. Amusingly, he would move aside unguided persons, so we could stand in each of the tomb’s significant spots. After the tour, the guide merely asked for a tip if we felt like it. We were happy to provide one.

Leaving the site, we were once again mobbed with hawkers. We managed to wade past them, only to encounter the original group of hawkers at the parking lot. They continued pressing us even after we’d slipped back into the car.

The Shopping Experience [The India Trip - 5 of 6] — (Photo taken 2004-06-26)

One Saturday, we finished up at the training center early and decided we should get some souvenirs for our loved ones back home. After a quick stop at the hotel to drop off our books, my buddy and I and student from England went downstairs to catch a rickshaw. Our “regular” rickshaw guy wasn’t hanging around out front, but another driver was. We had some suspicions about him, but went ahead and asked him to take us to Coughout Place, which is a huge shopping area. Half way there, he diverted to a consignment shop. He said, “We stop five minutes. You go inside. You no have to buy, just look. Maybe you find a nice carpet, yeah?”

This sort of thing happens frequently. Supposedly the shops pay the drivers for every “customer” they get inside. We simply refused to get out. Eventually the guy gave up trying to convince us and took us the rest of the way.

We disembarked in front of a market area full of tiny shops and street vendors. With every step through that place, we had someone at our elbow asking if we wanted wallets or postcards or toy snakes or hankies or shoe shines. That did not include the actual shopkeepers who were just as insistent that we stop and peruse their wares.

Eventually we found the underground walkway to take us to the mall proper. Just as we started to ascend the stairs back up, an adult shoe shiner stopped me and pointed out that I had “bad monkey shit” on my shoe. I looked down. Sure enough there was a big messy glob atop my sneaker. I was pretty sure that it wasn’t there earlier and had passed no monkeys in the tunnel. I figured he or an accomplice had tagged me.

Before I could protest, he wiped it away and moved on to polishing my sneakers. I quickly extracted my foot and walked away. He then demanded 150 rupees. I said something to the effect of, “Hell, no.” I continued on my way and the price suddenly dropped to 10 rupees. I’d have given him that, but I only had 100 rupee notes on me. I couldn’t see him making change. I ended up leaving him grumbling on the stairs.

Once we reached the mall, the constant hawking slowed. We only had to deal with someone every 100 feet or so. The one exception was another shoe shine boy. He kept after me for the next hour, reappearing after every shop we visited.

When we were finally ready to leave, the new rickshaw driver wanted nearly triple the amount that it took to get us to the mall. We managed to bargain him down to only double. Even then we had to forcibly convince him that we did not need a nice rug.