So, once again, blogger.com has eaten my post. However, I believe we've got the problem fixed, so cross your fingers...
The desert of India is absolutely incredible, and keeps getting better as we go deeper and deeper. We started in Jaipur, which is a wonderful city. Our hotel was a converted palace (rooms are 450/night--about 10 bucks). There was a tremendous garden lawn where we'd sit at night and have a beer, and where I did some painting during the day.
Our first night there, we met Kerana, a half Afghani/half Persian girl who is living in Bombay. She's quite a character. During our night with her, we snuck into a traditional Rajasthani wedding (where we were welcomed by a bunch of extremely extremely friendly kids, and stared at oddly by the older guests) and also attended what seemed to be a school/community dance competition--dances and costumes ranged from traditional Rajasthani to New Jersey 1983. Many of the kids were wearing Michael Jackson jackets. I had big plans to enter the competition (I could've taken those kids!) but Adarsh seemed to think that it would be somehow "inappropriate" for me to take the stage. So I had to settle for trying to teach Kerana how to dance.
It's very interesting how social structures work in India. Kerana, who no doubt considers herself a modern, liberal woman, interacts with those below her socially with an almost Slave/Master mentality. When beggar children approach, she's shouts at them with great offense. When dealing with waiters and rickshaw drivers, she expects them to cater to her every whim. Not that she's cruel or rude. In fact, she's quite a nice person. It's just that she's the Madam and they are the servants. It's certainly not an interaction that could ever happen in the States.
An extreme example of this was something we saw at the railway station in Delhi. A worker somehow offended an upper class man, who grabbed him and began to slap him and shout at him in the middle of the crowded platform. In the US, the guy would've been arrested. Here, it was just the way the social structure works. Don't get me wrong, it's not that everyone is that way-- in fact this was the only occurrence of violence I've seen since I've been here. But it was disturbing to see it happen so casually.
On the other hand, the cities of India are surprisingly safe. You can walk through areas strewn with homeless people and shanties, and feel completely safe. Beggars approach you and even follow you, but they are never aggressive. In some ways, it's the other side of the social structure coin. It's just not part of the cultural programming to behave outside social expectation.
Now back to Jaipur. Our second day there, we started out at the "Heaven Piercing Minaret"-- which is barely heaven piercing but does offer quite a view of the city. It was built by a Maharaja, who eventually killed himself rather than face death at the hands of an invading army. He was followed into the funeral pyre by 26 wives. But he did leave quite a landmark!
From the Minaret, we walked through the bazaar, to Jantar Mantar which is one of five astronomical observatories in five different cities built by an eccentric Emperor. What's incredible about it is that the "instruments" are actually interactive sculptures--some as big as buildings, covered with steps that go up, down and through them. I believe there's actually a method to the madness-- by positioning yourself in the right way, you can use the instruments to chart the planets. (There's even a section with one instrument for each of the astrological signs, apparantly built to coincide with the appropriate constellations). If only there was a book or audio tour! It would have been fascinating to learn how these things worked. But even as a giant playground it was a lot of fun.
From Jantar Mantar, we headed to the Wind Palace-- which is not so much a Palace as a facade-- in fact it's essentially like a movie set--only about three yards deep. It was a place for upperclass women-- who were not allowed to be seen-- to observe the town through tiny peep holes and "screened" windows which consist of small downward sloped holes in the rock. The palace is quite elegant, but unfortunately also covered with graffiti on the inside. It's amazing that people destroy the artifacts of their own heritage.
Back at the hotel we met up with Kerana. We hung out on the lawn, and while Kerana had her palm painted with Henna I took the opportunity to paint her. Unfortunately (or fortunately), she fell in love with the painting so I won't get to take it home. Afterwards, we headed to dinner at a place called "The Copper Kettle" or something like that. The food was unbelievable. Especially the Dum Aloo-- a stuffed potato in a red sauce. Yum!
From there, we took a bicycle rickshaw back to the hotel. Imagine 3 people being pulled by some dude on an ungeared bike-- you'd think it would be pretty slow, but our rickshaw driver was like superman. He was passing motorized rickshaws. I can't imagine being in that kind of physical shape--or doing that much work for 15 rupees.
Our train was leaving at 2:45 AM, so we hung out on the lawn and had a few beers with Kerana and her boyfriend Vindu (who, strangely, we hadn't met until now). Vindu was very generous, and had his driver take us to the train station, which saved us the not so easy task of finding a rickshaw at 2 in the morning.
Now let's talk about Indian train stations. The waiting rooms are littered with homeless and semihomeless people, sleeping on the ground. The smells are terrible, and the train tracks double as a porta-potty. When someone has to go, they just walk to the edge of the platform do their things. (The polite ones will actually jump down onto the tracks and walk across to a more secluded area). Not surprisingly, the tracks are crawling with rats, and many of the roaches are big enough to wear leashes. Adarsh and I stood for as long as we could without putting our bags down on the ground (which is absolutely covered with filth). But our train was delayed for an hour, and eventually we just gave up and set them down.
When the train arrives (because Adarsh refuses to travel with air conditioning) you're shuttled into concentration camp inspired 2nd class bunks stacked three high. They're covered with vinyl, which thankfully does not absorb the sweat of whoever's been lying there before you. Your bag becomes a pillow (or in my case, a leg rest) so you don't get it stolen in your sleep. You sleep with your shoes on for the same reason.
And yet... it wasn't actually an unenjoyable experience. The train is fast, the ride is smooth, and it's not quite as hot as you'd expect it to be when it's moving.
That said, next time we're going first class.
Anyway, we arrrived in Jodhpur around 8am, took a rickshaw to our hotel and had breakfast on the rooftop patio. The hotel (which costs 300 rupees a night) is located right in the heart of the city, and has the most amazing view of the fort. The buildings of the city are painted Brahmin Blue-- absolutely spectacula-- with this immense, ancient, unassailable fortress perched high above it on a bluff. Despite our amazement, we had no trouble falling asleep until about 3pm at which point we started exploring the city.
The first thing you notice about Jodhpur is the difference in the people. In Jaipur or Delhi, when a person says hi, it means they A) want money B) want to scam you C) want to take you to a shop to be scammed by someone else. In Jodhpur, when a person means "hi" it means "I want to meet you and find out about you". And EVERYONE says hi.
Adarsh and I get a lot of amazed stares. I think a lot of it is that people can't quite figure out where we're fun. (Most of them think we're Mexican or Spanish-- and one guy was certain that Adarsh was a movie star). People are amazingly friendly, interested, and welcoming.
Adarsh and I started with the most unbelievable saffron lassi (a specialty of the region and particularly of one lassi shop recommended by lonely planet) A group of adorable kids stared at us the whole time we drank our lassis, while their mother, who was wearing traditional brightly colored Rajastani clothing discretely covered her face with the thin fabric. (a relatively common practice in this part of the world).
From the lassi shop we found a shortcut that took us up the the fort. It was steep, but saved us a 5 km walk. Along the way, we struck up a conversation with a very nice local woman, who invited us to eat in her guest house. We may go there tomorrow night.
Unfortunately, the fort was closed, but the guards, who sport curled mustaches, let us walk around a little bit. There were a couple of sitar players, and the view is extraordinary-- you can not only see the whole city from up there, you can also here it: Chanting of prayers at the mosques (there's a strong muslim presence in the city), and the distant chatter of thousands of conversations.
From there, we took a rickshaw to the Umaid Bhavan-- a palace on the outskirts of the city that is now the most elegant hotel in town. (The suite there is a whopping $175 US a night--outrageous for this region, but apparantly worth it). We were just going to check it out and have some dinner, but unfortunately, it too was closed for a movie shoot. (Which may explain some of the amazed stares-- and why the guy thought Adarsh was a movie star). We'll see if we get the same reaction in the future.
We ended up having dinner at Midtown restaurant- an all veggie place by the railway station, which has delicious food (though nothing can compare to the lassis we had earlier in the day). From there, we took a rickshaw back to our hotel and watched the sunset from the roof.
And now, here I am, at an internet cafe... and that's all the news there is!
Jake
