Jaipur

October 11, 2010

JAIPUR: ON BEING PLEASANTLY SURPRISED!

Having spent so much time yesterday wondering about on foot, I did not get to see any of the “must-see” sights. Since I want to continue onto Pushkar tomorrow, I thought I’d better take a morning bus tour of Jaipur. Am I ever glad I did! Can’t believe I’m saying this, as I am adverse to bus tours. But this was not your usual bus tour!

Hava Mahal, Palace of the Winds

Because there were only five of us, we went in a jeep. No a/c only FWD (four windows down). The other four tourists were an Indian family, two adults, Raja and Krishna; and their two children, Ravina (13) and Viswa, (7). What good company they were. It’s school holidays and they’re visiting from Hyderabad. Our driver, Sita, was very pleasant and accommodating.

We did a drive-by sighting of the famous pink sandstone façade of the Hawa Mahal, (The Palace of the Winds), that housed the ladies of Sawal Pratap Singh’s harem. The 953 small casement windows that comprise the arch-shaped façade, allowed air to blow through and circulate to keep the ladies cool while they peeked through the screened windows to watch passing processions, and that kept them from the public eye.

At the large open air observatory, Jantar Mantar, “Instruments for measuring the harmony of the heavens," we hired a guide. Highly recommended as the tour is utterly fascinating. The yantras, instruments, are brilliantly conceived and look like abstract art rather than instruments that accurately track the infinitesimal movements of the sun, the location of the Pole star at night and the signs of the zodiac.

We also hired a tour guide to take us around the spectacularly located Amber Fort. Again recommend the one-hour tour as the fort is vast and it's easy to get lost.

Traveller's tip: Do not be taken in by touts who say they are guides outside the tourist sights. Most tourist sights have "official" guides who will approach you once your ticket is punched and you're inside.  Some sights will have a board with the fees for guides next to the ticket booth. If there is no board, you can bargain with the guide. Be warned, some guides accents are heavier than others and it takes a little while to attune to the accent.

It was fun being with a family and being with kids. Of course Viswa was climbing everything he was not supposed to and the guides and his parents were having to constantly stop him in his tracks. But his boyish energy was like a breath of fresh air.

We also did a drive-by sighting of the front view of Jal Mahal, the Water Palace, in the middle of a lake as there were no boats to take us to the Palace. I would so have loved to be able to visit it as four of the five stories are underwater.  It was constructed in 1799 by the aforementioned Sawal Pratap Singh. 

I must say, staying at the modest but comfortable Atithi guesthouse has improved my spirits enormously. Arriving here was a relief as the hotel staff, particularly the guys at the front desk, are friendly and helpful and my room feels luxurious after the dank, musty and less than comfortable room in Agra and my stuffy small, expensive hotel room in Delhi. My room is spacious, light and airy and is on the rooftop of the guesthouse which has lots of plants and tables and chairs where one can eat and/or drink and lounge about and chat with other guests, who as usual are a great source of information about guesthouses and off the beaten track tourist sights. Some also have great, but sometimes horror tales to tell. Usually a lovely camaraderie among fellow travelers.

The room is immaculately clean (what a concept!) and the sheets and towels are actually white as opposed to the usual dingy stained ones that have been provided in other places. Shower barely functional but at least the water is hot at night. The kitchen is open from 7 a.m. till 10 p.m. and the food is fresh and freshly prepared. The Thali is particularly good. Am loving the Indian breakfast of salted lassi, chapati, and fresh fruit salad. Highly recommend Atithi for budget minded travelers. Also no touts outside the entrance!

OCTOBER 10, 2010

ON TURNING A CORNER

Today I have turned a corner. Which usually happens after a decent night's sleep. While lolling lazily in bed this morning, relieved that I did not have to get up at 4 a.m. again to catch a train, it suddenly dawned on me that traveling is my true vocation. And having realized that, I thought how traveling in a country for the first time is analogous to starting a challenging new job or career.

The learning curve is steep. As much as one believes that past experience, an open mind and a willingness to take on board new challenges prepares one psychologically, its rare that one can be prepared for what the reality is on that critical first day.

Once I got that, I shifted my thinking about my somewhat disheartening experiences in Delhi and Agra. Just as in any job there are good times, tough times and times when you feel like quitting or wanting to throttle someone, so it is when travelling in a different culture.  And then of course there are times when you are so exhilarated that you can't understand why you even thought of wanting to quit in the first place.

In a way traveling in India for me is a bit like what practicing extreme sports must be like for avid sports people.  Absolutely thrilling but sometimes terrifying. Well, perhaps that’s not a great analogy because I can’t imagine putting my life in such danger. However, I recognize the driving force behind such pursuits. Passion being one, pushing through one’s fears another and I imagine a desire to propel oneself way out of one’s comfort zone.

My entry to India was rough. I did not cope well at all. My feeble excuse is that I was horribly sleep deprived. Of course the intense heat, dust and dense pollution did not help matters. So definitely started on the wrong foot and felt out of kilter. But today, having had this insight that travel really is my vocation, really helped me change my attitude.

I decided rather than sightsee, I would walk around the area where the guesthouse is located–one cannot call it a neighborhood–and absorb the sights, sounds, and smells.

Strolling about is not an easy task as there are few pavements and one has to dodge mounds of rubble, rubbish heaps and potholes and of course bicycles and motorcycles of one sort or another that tend to weave around everything to dodge cows, traffic and pedestrians. The almost caustic smell of human urine is what first hits and almost burns the nostrils, especially in the heat of the day. That mixed with dust and the smell of rotting garbage does not make for an aromatic meander. But being on the streets in the mess of daily life certainly sharpens your senses and gives you a sense of place.

Young kids bombard you and pull at your sleeves or pants and even your arm, asking for money. One or two will instantly produce a fake cough to elicit more rupees. Others simply beamed and one could not resist the mischief lurking in their eyes as they thrust their hands in front of you as you walked. And just laughed it off when you indicated that there were no more coins or small notes to go around.

Makeshift food stalls on carts also vie for space on the dusty sides of the road between other vendors, rubble and patches of strewn rubbish. Vendors sell fried snacks like samosas and pakoras and what I can only describe as potato fingers as they look like fish fingers but are made of potato.

There are also men on their haunches tending fires with big kettles of water hanging over the fires and a large teapot at their sides from which they pour tea and/or chai into paper cups and sell to passersby. The thirsty either stand or squat in close proximity to chat with whoever is next to them while they sip away and take a few drags on a cigarette. I have yet to see a woman buy tea or a snack.  Except this morning, I did see a woman with two children in tow buying confections from a cart.

As always, when I get over being intimidated by a new city and decide to brave the streets, paved and unpaved to find my way around, I find myself adjusting to my surroundings. And marvel at the ability of people to thrive and/or simply survive in the chaos and heat and dust and malodorous surroundings.

On one of the main roads, there is a line of families who live on the pavements. Some shelter under a makeshift lean-to attached to a fence. Fabric of one sort or another serves as a groundsheet where babies crawl around and/or sleep, half naked. Alongside the groundsheet, the mother tends a small fire and makes chapattis while chatting either to another family member or a neighboring pavement dweller.

Walking around always brings me back to my senses and helps me get a feel and understanding of the culture in which I'm immersed. Walking about also helps move me along the trajectory of the learning curve.

So am feeling heartened rather than beleaguered. I am also deeply aware, even when I'm feeling frustrated and out of kilter, that I am the visitor. It is me who has to change my way of being and thinking, not the people whose country I'm in.