The Road to Mandawar Mr Singh was late this morning; heavy Delhi traffic. But soon after he arrived we were once again out of the hotel gate and off on our first of many drives through Rajasthan. Mr Singh's car is a Suzuki Esteem, a compact car popular in India. We knew we'd be traveling for anywhere from 6-9 hours a day so we upgraded to the "luxury car". In India, I guess the Suzuki Esteem is considered a luxury car. It was a little cramped in the back and the head rests of the front seats did obstruct the view through the windshield, but we were comfortable, the car had air conditioning and it was always clean. Mr Singh took great pride in his car and his job, always arriving to work in a clean pressed grey driving uniform and the back seat was always covered with a clean white cotton cover. We were off to a mostly desert region of India, a contrast of incredibly poor villages built around artisitcly astounding temples, oppulent Palaces and fabled Fortresses. It is a rich heritage of Mughal architecture and medieval culture. The smells, the colors, the dances, spices and food. We were ready and eager. It was definitely a place unlike anything we'd ever seen before. Our first destination was to the medieval city of Mandawa in the Shekhawati region, in northern Rajasthan. What was supposed to be a 6 hour drive ended up as 12 hours. It was a tough day, but a great story. It is 248 km from Delhi to Mandawar. With a good road in nay other country it might take about 2-2.5 hours to travel. In India, most roads are barely two lanes; actually it's a wide one lane. When a car or truck comes in the other direction, you drive off the road to give them the right away. This was our first realization about driving in India. The second was that Mr Singh had no idea where he was going. But that was OK. At every village along the road, he rolled down the window and yelled out to the locals, where is Manadawa? After 5 hours of camels, oxen, cows, carts, scooters, trucks and villagers in very traditional clothing, we finally came to a very abrupt halt. Our one road was closed. Apparently the locals were upset with their allotment of 6 hours of electricity a day and wanted more (I think they wanted an extra 2 hours). Since there was only one road, it was easy for them to cause a major interruption. And so we pulled off the road into the parking lot of the Hotel Pal, a 1950's ranch style motel and joined the other waylaid travelers; two busloads of Belgians, a car filled with Brits and another carfull of Germans, about 70 in all. The hotel had a swimming pool and a vending machine and within minutes of our arrival, the local villages were upon us with snake baskets and trinkets. After an hour or so, the collective group of tour agents managed to call several influential friends and arranged for a Police escort, but the police wouldn't go through the road block. They didn't want to cause an "incident". Instead, they took us on the secret back roads, through the desert; no roads, only sand...a place where only camels dare to tread. The two buses seemed fine with the soft terrain. They were heavy enough to get some tracion. The cars didn' do so well, and every so often, people had t get out o the buses and push the cars out of one sand dune into another. The very tribal villagers of the Shekhawati ran out to the front of their huts and watched the convoy. We were sure they'd never seen anything like us before. But the feeling was mutual. We'd never seen anything them before either. By the looks of their huts, they should have been protesting for better living conditions, not jus electricity. Some families were living inside the protection of old tree branches glowing in the night from a small fire. It was a very dark. Men stared at us through the car window gripping tight to their machetes and axes. There were a few times when I looked over to Gretchen and said, "Honey, this could be the last adventure". Several times during the trip through the desert, the police stopped their jeeps for the "traditional" shake down. They refused to ake us any further until we all gave them 50 rupee each (about $1). We were told it was to pay people for the right to pass through their land. We knew better. After 3 "payments", the Police escort finally dropped us off a few Kilometers away from Manadawa. It was after 12midnight and the hotel desk clerk was extrememly concerned, not for our safey or inconvenience though, the grand buffet and entertainment he had prepared was waiting for us for almost 6 hours. The sterno cans were evaporating and the food was beginning to get cold and he had probably already paid the dancers and musicans. We finally got to sleep around 2am, but only for an hour or so. There was a wedding in the village and traditional Indian weddings go on all night. Lots of signing, dancing and very loud music. Mandawa is known for its havelis, the grand home of the wealthy families. In the Shekhawati, the havelis are painted with vibrant frescoes on the walls.
The next morning were were off for another 6 hour drive to the city of Bikaner, close to the Pakistan border. Mr Singh looked well rested (which is more than I can say for us) and the car, of course was immaculately clean. The roads in Mandawa were paved once, maybe back in 1940, but by the time we drove across them there were 10 gallon sized pot holes. Mr Singh managed to avoid a lot of them, but one finally got us. It was time to change a tire. Within minutes of removing our luggage from the trunk (to get the tire jack and spare) at least 20 locals crowded around us. We didn't think they were going to take anything, they were just interested. It was pobably Gretchen's blonde hair. Blondes are a real treat for the Rajasthani. At one point, a 10 year old boy forced his way to the front of the crowds and announced in his best english, "I am in school and I am studying to be an engineer. I speak good english." Well told him how happy we were to meet him, but no one else understood what he was saying. Although english is taught in the schools, here in Mandawar, it pretty much rajasthani or hindi. Mr. Singh changed the tire by himself. He refused to let us help. A few kilometers outside of town we found a tire repair center (a very popular business in Rajasthan) and as they repaired the tire, we amused ourselves with an old beat up camel. We arrived to the Hotel Bhanwar Niwas in the late afternoon. It was a big step up from our accommodations in Mandawar. The Palace was built in 1927 and hasn't changed much since then. The plumbing and (gigantic) bathrooms are upgraded but the rooms still have that early 20th century British colonial feel to them. It was too late to see the Fort and the Royal Palace, but after tossing our things into our room, Mr Singh got us back in the car and took us to a local camel farm. It was here, where we were introduced to our local guide Mr Singh (not to be confused with our driver Mr Singh). Apparently the camels from Bikaner are renowned throughout India for their stregnth and speed. We had just missed the Camel fair in nearby Pushkar where Bikaner camels went for lots of money. Yes, there is still a very big market for camels in this part of the country.
The following morning, Mr Singh (our driver) brought us to meet Mr Singh, our guide at the 16th century Mughal fortress, Junagarh Fort, an immense red sandstone Fortress with 37 palaces, temples and pavilions. The carved windows are spectacular. Large metal spikes are still mounted to the main doors of the Sun Gate. If an oncoming elephant bull tried to ram the door, these strategically placed spikes would pierce through the head of the attacking beast. The Fort was only overtaken once but the posession changed back in in less than 24hrs. We also made a brief stop at the Lalgarh Palace. The red sandstone Maharaja Palace built in 1902 has 38 rooms filled with antiques, hunting trophies and Rajastani paintings. Like many of the Maharaja Places in Rajastan, this one has also converted over to hotel status and is managed the the Heritage Hotel Group.
The Road to Jodhpur Mr Singh looked a little weary and unshaven this morning. His uniform was wrinkled and relaxed but the car was clean and readied for us. Maybe he was just feeling more relaxed with us. "How much time madam?" he asked Gretchen. This was his way of asking what time it was. The road to Jodhpur was a 6 hour drive. Every destination was a 6 hour drive, but we were in no hurry. A little over 30 km from Bikaner, we made our first stop the Karni Mata Temple at Desnok, The Rat Temple. Shri Karni Mata, the incarnation of the Durga, Goddess of Power and Victory began her miracle working in the area at the age of 6 when her father was bitten by a poisonous snake. She just touched the wound and he was healed. The temple in Desnok is a very popular site for pilgims seeking her blessings. As the legend goes, the devotees of Shri Karni Mata who have died in or near Desnok are reincarnated as Rats, called "Kabas". The Kabas live in the temple. They are totally domesticated and are more like pets than wild rats. Since the belief is that they are the followers of Karni Mata, they are treated as devotees of the Temple. They drink milk from a bowl, they sit on the pilgrims laps, they are cared for by the temple. It's all rather charming, and a very good tourist stop. Jodhpur - The Blue City
The Umaid Bhawan was one of the last royal Palace built in India. It accomplished two goals; one to build a Palace for Maharaja Umed Singh, the other to provide work for the poor who were going through one of the worst draughts in India's history. There are 347 rooms in the hotel, now a 5 star hotel run by the Heritage Hotels of India. The present owner is His Highness Gaj Singh, The Maharaja of Jodhpur still lives in one of the wings. As we were walking the gorunds one night we heard the TV in his apartments. He was listening to "The Eastenders", a BBC show about families in the London's East End. Jodhpur is the second largest ciy in Rajastan (Jaipur is the largest). Before our visit all we knew about the city was it was the origin of the famous Jodhpur pants The breeches were created for the Maharana who loved Polo, a very big sport in Jodhpur. From there, they became the rage in London and on through the empire until they finally became de rigeur for stereotyped Hollywood film directors. By the way, I hear the pants are making a comeback.. You can see lots of photos of the Maharaja wearing them in the Palace museum. You can also have them custom made for you but you'll have to wait a few days to pick them up. Jodhpur is known as the Blue city because The 15th century Mehrangarh Fort sits 400 feet above the city. The city below the Fort is a sprawling marketplace filled with food, spices, cloth and professional services. You want a haircut, no problem, just have a seat on my blanket. Mr Singh next brought us over to the Jodhpur Bazaar to meet his friend Mr Jain, "the best wallah in all of India for pashmina and Indian cloth". Gretchen was definitely in the market for pashminas and so we figured why not. We knew the routine.
It was a short drive to Udaipur, only 5 hours. Mr (Behandar) Singh, made a detour and took us to visit an old brama bull powered water well. It was a sight right out of 16th century Rajasthan, the bulls resplendid with their blue brahman horns. The drive to Udaipur was beautiful. We were coming out of the desert and green hills were starting to appear. We would be staying at the Lake Palace in Udaipur. The story we were told by Mr Mumbles Singh was when Jagat Singh II made the request to his father. Maharana Sangram Singh II, to spend some time at the Royal pleasure palace at Jag Mandir, the Maharana said "no way". The Maharana and his son were not very close. And so the son took a big bucket of the royal treasure and built his own pleasure palace in another, closer location on Lake Pichola. The 18th century marble palace took over 3 years to build and looks out to the Palace of Udaipur. I guess he built it here so his father could look down and sneer at him in disgust.
All I can say about this is that India is not a good country to get dysentery. I stayed in the room for one day but I really wanted to get out and see the city. I figured how bad could it be? They do have toilets in India. Let's just say it was pretty bad. I have traveled with tissue paper in pocket ever since. Mr Mumbles Singh was eager to fulfill his obligations to us and although I explained my problem, he felt we had already missed one day so now we had to see twice as much on the second day. We speed toured the Palace of Udaipur and the lush gardens. The Maharana had built different rooms and gardens with sounds that would immitate different weather conditions. In a place where rain is a luxury, you would learn the difference between a soft rain, a storm, a mist a drizzle and so on. He told us if we covered our ears, we could actually hear what kind of rain was being represented.
Jaipur - the Pink City It would have been another 8 hour drive to Jaipur and we were really road tired. The opportunity arose to take a small place from Udaipur to Jaipur. It was a 45 minute flight and we would have someone meet us at the aiport. Mr Singh would drive the car and meet us later. When we were told there was a delay of 4 hours at the military airport, they opened up the (you guessed it) grand buffet for us. Mumbles Singh stayed with us at the airport most of the time. We had to plead with him to finally leave us. He was actually a very nice guy and felt really responsible for us. We just could never figure out what he was saying. After about 4 hours we were called to the security check, and this was the most ridiculous security I have ever been through. It was pre 911 too. All hand luggage was taken away and inspected in a private room, while you were placed in a a different private dressing room and searched. Men searches by men, women searched by women. I was expecting the "please remove your clothing" but it never came to that. When they discovered the AAA batteries in my bag I thought I was going to be taken to the top secret security. "No batteries are allowed" I was told. "What should I do with them?" I asked. There was a united shrug. And so I offered them to the security agent. "Really" he said, totally surprised. "You are giving them to me?" "It's either that or throwing them into the the trash can", I told him. He was so thankful. I think Mr Singh arrived to Jaipur before we did. It was a tough day but the road ended at the Raj Villas Hotel; luxury tents and villas. I couldn't believe we were still in India. We pulled off the road by the discarded washing machines and bags of colorful garbage and once inside the gate, we were all of a sudden in 32 acres of finely manicured lawns and contemporary luxury. We had internet connections, good phone service and all the amenities of a Four Season Hotel. Gretchen called her parents in Pennsylvania. Her dad was sick but the phone call really cheered him up, expecially all the sordid details of my Delhi Belly experience. Many of the city buildings f Jaipur are covered in a pink colored stucco, probably to emulate the red sandstone of other monumental cities throughout Rajasthan. Maybe there wasn't a lot of red sandstone in Jaipur, or maybe they were just going for a different look. Anyway, this is without a doubt, the most beautiful city we've seen in the region. There are wide boulevards, city parks, urban planning and a Royal Palace in the middle of the city. One of the first sights you notice is the "Hawa Mahal", the Palace of Winds. The rest of the Royal Palace is a myriad of ornate chambers, inlaid ceilings, manicured gardens mirrored walls, marble floors, ancient manuscripts, costumes and armor and weapons, including a scissor-action dagger with a release in the handle that would spring open two opposing blades in the wound. It probably really hurt when it was pulled out. The "Chandra Mahal" or Moon Palace is the most beautiful part of the palace with grand carved rooms and finely detailed windows overlooking the gardens. Some of the Roayl family still live in a wing of the Palace but for the most part it's a tourist attraction and a real neck twisting experience. In one hall, off the main courtyard sit the two largest silver vessels in the world (according to the Guinness Book of World Records). These urns were the traveling water supply for the Maharaja Madho Singh II when he visited England. On the roof garden of the Palace is the Jantar Mantar, an 18th century collection of architectural astronomical instruments built to measure time, predict eclipses and monsoons and track the stars and orbits of planets. It looks like a modern sculpture garden but they are more then pretty forms. The are very accurate.The sundial, is still accurat to within two seconds. The following morning Mr Singh brought us over to the Amber Fort where we met up once again with Mr. Dilip Singh, our Jaipur guide. Somehow when I booked the package, I was talked into the "elephant ride" up to the Fort. It seemed pretty touristy but Mr Sunil Puri explained that "it was not kitchy at all. The Amber Fort is yet another imposing fortress sitting on top of another imposing hill. It's amazing that the country fell to the British. It was really well fortified. Oh well, that's another story. Inside the main gate is a small city; shops, streets and lots of people. These were the early days of digital cameras and the Rajasthani had never seen such a marvelous invention. They were so happy to let us make their photographs so they could see the instant results. We started with a small boy and soon moved to a large family. By the end of the session we had created our holiday card for 2000. One of the best(and most popular) attractions of the Amber Palace is the "Sheesh Mahal" the Hall of Mirrors. We were brought into the room and Mr Dilip Singh closed the door. He then lit one small candle and the reflecion of the flame off the mirrored walls actually lit up the entire room. Pretty amamzing stuff. Mr Dilip Singh then took us to visit the jewelry shops of Jaipur. This is a very famous part of the world for yellow sapphire. And once again, the salesman was so good, within an hour we left with a 6 carat yellow sapphire for what we thought was a very good price. We later found out that although it was a real sapphire, there was an occlusion inside of the stone due to heating the sapphire to give it a more yellow color. It wasn't worth as much as we paid for it. Oh well, when we were in Bangkok a year ago, Gretchen got a blue spahhire necklace that was worth more than twice what we paid for it. I guess it all balances out. The Road to Agra We walked back down the hill from the Amber Fort (it was much faster than taking the Elephant) and there was our loyal friend and driver Mr Behander Singh ready and waiting for us with the car. On the way we made a detour to the deserted city of Fatehpur Sikri, about an hour from Agra. This was the Mughal capital city of India from 1571 until 1585. Unfortunately when they designed the city they neglected to check out the dependability of the water supply. 15 years after the city was completed, the source of water dried up. The city has been deserted ever since.
Agra and the Taj Mahal Agra is a big noisy city, something like Delhi but on a smaller scale. When you see the photos of the Taj Mahal it seems so peaceful and serene. We later found out the the monument is not exactly in the city of Agra. It's about a 15 minute ride away. There was an election in Agra when we arrived and trucks with loudspeakers were shaking the building with inspirational pomises from the candidates. It went on late into the night. You could not escape the election. Gretch's suitcase died in Agra. The zipper had closed for the last time. And so Mr Singh brought us to the local bazaar and we picked up a temporary bag for about $5. It looked sturday enough to make it through the rest of the trip. We asked the hotel woman cleaning our room is she would like the old bag and she was very happy to accept it but first we had to write a permission slip to the hotel stating tha we were "in fact" giving it to her. The Taj Mahal is situated in a park. First you arrive to the parking lot. Next you walk to the entrance gate where there are many signs explaining that this is a buiral site and please be curteous and respectful. Then you walk through the entrance and there it is. It is truly a wonder to behold. As wonderful as you would imagine it to be. The Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan commissioned it as a mausoleum for his favorite wife, Mumtaz Mahal, although after his death, he was burried next to her in the crypt below the dome. The following morning as we were checking out of the hotel we got a message from the front desk, "please call your home right away" Gretchen's dad had passed away. The last we spoke to him was a couple of days before when we were in Jaipur. he was weak but he was laughing and pretty cheerful. We know he was ill but we had no idea how bad it was. We cancelled the rest of the trip and Mr Singh brought us back to Delhi. From there we flew to Kathmandu and spent the night in Nepal. A woman on the plane advised us to light some Yak butter candles to help Gretchen's dad have an easier passgae to the next life. We figured he's rather have a martini. We were able to have a 1/2 day in Kathmandu and then onto Bangkok where we rented a room adjacent to the airport for 3 hours until we could get onto a flight for Japan. The short room rental is a great idea. You can relax, take a shower, have a meal, possibly even a few hours sleep. The short term room rental never really took off in America. Most people think it's only for hookers. From Japan we waited a few more hours and caught a flight to Pittsburgh; about 48 hours after we got the sad news, we arrived to Sharon Pennsylvania. |
Rajasthan
We were told to please hurry to the buffet. Our appearance in the courtyard was enought of a signal the start to the entertainment. We're stayin in an 18th century Palace known to us as the Palace Mandawa. The desk clerk has given us the Maharani's apartments. There is a very large round bed in the middle of a Mughal style room surrounded by ornately carved windows. 
We arrived to the 
He was probably remembering the "good old days" of colonial India, before all his wealth was taken away by Indira Ghandi.
all the roofs of the houses in the city are painted blue. originally this was to show which houses belonged to the Brahmins (blue is their color), but eventually everyone got into the custom. They say it keeps away the mosquitoes. When I lived in New Orleans, the natives painted the ceilings of their fronts proches this same color blue for the same reason and I can attest, mosquitoes don't like it. I have no idea why it works. It just does. Recently, my father had me put a bar of soap at the foot of our bed to prevent leg cramps. Once again, I don't know why it works, it just does.
It is an imposing site both above and below. Our guide, Mr Yashwant Singh (we're begining to think that everyone related to the tourism in dustry is named Singh) took us through the beautifully carved palaces and museum collections including a 9' tall baby cradle that belonged to the last Maharaja born in the Palace.
You need dental work, no problem, just sit right here. The dentist will be right with you.
Mr Singh would bring us in and if we bought anything, he'd get a small commission on the sale. Usually for sales like this, the shop keeper will add on an extra price to pay for the commission but in India everything is so inexpensive we didn't care about the surcharge. We were greeted by a shop employee but soon Mr Jain, himself appeared. He smelled a sale and in less than a minute, we were drinking tea and watching one beauiful bed cover after another, ancient hand sewn Mughal sashes, quilts assembled by village women in far remote parts of Rajastan, 17th century bronze statues (I'm looking at one of them on my desk as I'm writing this) and Indian pashminas, those sought after finely woven shawls made from the underbelly of a special breed of goat that only lives in high in the Himalayan mountains. Mr Jain informed us (along with all his other grand stories) that Indian pashminas were far superior to any other. As proof of how perfect they were he showed us the only way to tell if the pashmina is of very high quality, is if it will slide through a ring. He removed a gold band from his finger and showed how easy his products slid though the band. That's all we needed to see. We bought 8 new pashminas, 2 antique pashminas, 4 bed covers, and one small bronze statue (purportedly to be from the 17th century) of Hanuman, the monkey god standing on top of an elephant. I'm a big fan of Hanuman. He is the patron god of learning, music and mischief. How bad could that be?
We passed trees filled with bats that could carry away small children and finally found our way to the Jain Temple at Ranakpur where we met up with Mr. Mumbles Singh (we could barely hear a word). But we didn't need to hear anything once we entered the temple. It was jaw dropping; 24 halls and 1444 columns of white marble carved in elaborate figures, and filigrees, both inside the temple and on the outside. The entire temple, about 3,900 square meters (42,471 square feet) was all elaborately carved, both inside and out. 
This is the largest of the Jain temples in India, possibly the world since most of the Jain sect lives in this country. It has been recently nominated for the list of the new 7 wonders of the world. Jainism strives for spiritual reward based on the equality of all living things. Some Jainists wear masks over their faces so they won't accidently swallow a bug. They are vegans but they won' eat root vegetables because this kills the entire plant.They are completely non-violent and their compassion for all things human and non-human is the focus of their very disciplined lives. The swastika is one of their holiest symbols. I don't think the Nazis really understood the meaning of the symbol when they adapted it for their form of fascism. 
It must have been the lemon squash I drank at the Mehrangarh Fort in Jodhpur. We settled into our room in the Lake Palace and about an hour before the grand buffet (there's always a grand buffet in India) I started to get chills. Gretchen covered me up but my teeth were chattering as if we'd booked a room at the Lake Frozentundra Hotel. Outside of the room the fire dancers were entertaining the other guests. The music was loud and I couldn't sleep. I just laid there chattering and looking out the window. On the glass, there was a decal that read" Please keep the windows closed". Above the message was the international NO through a mosquito. That was it. I must have had malaria. At some point during the night, I started to sweat and the fever broke. Unfortunately, my intestines broke along with it. As it turned out, I didn' have malaria at all. It was a common case of "Delhi Belly".
The building is actually just a facade that was built as an extension to the royal harem. It allowed these Royal Ladies to look on everyday life in the city from behind the windows without being seen.
He had to have water from the Ganges River. We still don't know if he used the water to drink or to bath in. All we were told was he feared the pollutants in the English water.
It was a very traditional way to arrive to the Amber Fort in the improtant days". And so, once inside the Fort entrance, we were escorted to the Elephant cue, which looked like an overzized taxi stand. We were mounted on top of our elephant "Rosebud" and proceeded to climb the hill. It was long and very slow, gracefully falling side to side as the large animal shifted her weight from step to step. I kind of felt like a kid at the zoo. When we got to the top, the driver told us if we would like, we could give Rosebud a tip and so 
Gretchen handed her some rupee and she grabbed it with her snout.
It took almost 20 years to complete the massvie marble mausoleum and is considered by many to be the finest example of Mughal architecture in exisitence. Although most people only see the Taj in the photographs, there are actually a few other smaller red sandstone mausoleums for other wives (who the Shah didn't like as much) and a Mosque which is still very much in use. Entering the tomb is like entering a church, there is an eerie feeling of something grander than you. As in all religious monuments in Mughal India, all shoes are left outside the door or if you don't wish to remove your shoes, plastic covers are made available.