Jaipur

I've learned in India that getting advanced notice for important events is a rare gift, rather than an expectation. A few weeks ago we discovered that the kids would be taking exams for two weeks, during which we were expected to come to school but would not be proctoring or grading exams.  As the thought of spending two weeks hanging out in the staff room was less than appealing, we asked the people at USIEF to help us get excused from school during that time.  Sure enough, our principals gave us the time off, on the condition that we work on our "research projects." Yay! Hannah has a friend, Caity, who goes to UT Austin that she met while learning Hindi in Jaipur two  years ago.  Caity is spending the semester in Jaipur learning Hindi again and Hannah decided it was time for a visit. Though we had to be back in Delhi Monday night for a wedding we were invited to (more on that later), she urged me to join her, nervous about taking the train both ways in sleeper class by herself.  I was happy to oblige, and on Friday afternoon we met after school for sandwiches before heading to the train station.

Trains in India are such a unique entity, and the experience of riding them is so defining of travel in India.  Everyone in this country rides the train, it seems.  Train stations are such a microcosm of this country, it's incredible. I've been to several train stations so far, all in major cities, and each time I have marveled at the hundreds of people in the station, waiting in line, sleeping on newspapers laid out on the floor, families huddled around tiffins eating curried vegetables with roti, Chai Wallahs caring large tin kettles filled with the steaming sweet, milky tea, men with carts piled high with giant crates or sacks, women in bright chiffon saris balancing giant baskets on their heads. The tracks are filthy, covered in trash and human waste, but that doesn't stop people from jumping off the platform and crossing them on foot, leaping up to safety on the other side.  When the trains stop, men lean out of doors and windows, smoking beedies, drinking chai and staringstaringstaring. As you wait, little kids with matted, dirty hair and people young and old, crippled by polio or missing limbs beg for money and loiter in wait. The platform smells terrible, a putrid mix of urine and sweat and dirty laundry, and the air rings with constant chimes and announcements of incoming and outgoing trains. Sometimes the trains come on platforms other than the one posted, in which case you have to hope for a random good samaritan to let you know of the unannounced change.

Living the good life in Sleeper Class

The trains have several classes: First AC--two people to an air conditioned compartment, Second AC--four people in an air-conditioned compartment with bunk beds, Third AC--six people in an air-conditioned compartment with three-tiered bunk beds, Sleeper and General.  Sleeper is set up with three-tiered bunk beds in each compartment, with room for six people to sleep "comfortably." The cars are not air-conditioned, but the windows open and it's arguably the best way to see the countryside as you travel. The thing about Sleeper is that you can ride it without an assigned seat, so many people just board the train and hope to squeeze in to sit somewhere or just stand where they can.  What does this mean for the average foreigners who choose this transport option? It means that your conceivably "assigned" bench will be taken up by as many people as can possible squeeze onto it, and just when you think no one else can fit, someone practically sits on your lap.  Hannah and I nabbed window seats, a lifesaver in the situation, and refused to close the window, even when the rain came in through the slats and onto our laps. We were the only women in the car, but two nice guys sat next to us from the beginning who helped us fend off the stares a bit. It's not that we feel threatened in these situations, it's just uncomfortable to have so many people looking at you. At one point we just put our dupattas over our heads to just be a little less visible.In a space that would comfortably seat 6-8 people, at least 20 people were crammed, sitting on the bottom bunks, top bunks and side bunks, standing in the isles, leaning on ladders and sitting on laps. For six hours. The benefit of riding in Sleeper, other than "experiencing India" at its fullest? It's cheap as dirt. Our round trip train tickets to Jaipur cost less than 400 rupees (about $8 each). Believe it or not, this is not even the cheapest option.  General Class is just a car with no seats or compartments and they sell as many tickets as people will buy, so you can imagine how luxurious that journey is.

We arrived in Jaipur around 11:30 PM and headed for the restaurant where Caity and her friends were at a party.  We didn't stay long and fell asleep the second our heads hit the pillow.  The next day began with a trip to Anokhi, a lovely cafe attached to a fixed price store selling beautiful, traditionally-made Rajasthani textiles.  We wandered around the store after our beautiful sandwiches and a slice of carrot cake that, while delicious, left my stomach feeling less than happy.  We went to Bapu Bazaar, a main drag in Jaipur with row after row of shops selling the many crafts indigenous to India's largest state. Rajasthan is particularly well-known for its textiles, using many traditional techniques both in weaving fabric and adorning it. Block printing and silkscreening designs by hand, various methods of resist dyeing, such as batik and shiborai, decorating fabric with small mirrors, and the use of hand looms for weaving are examples of the wares on display in the market. 

Fabric heaven!

For a fabric junkie like me, this place was heaven.  I just kept wandering in and out of the shops, touching all the clothes and sheets and hangings, soaking in the sights and colors and patterns in all their forms. I bought some beautiful hand-printed sheets, off-white with a black paisley design and an olive and teal border. Caity's friend, Sabeena, was a bargainer to behold, refusing to pay even 10 or 20 rupees over what she thought was fair. It was great also that Hannah, Caity and Sabeena all speak fluent Hindi; vendors' reactions to their fluency was so funny to watch. They would ask questions like "Do you speak Hindi?", to which Hannah always replies in Hindi, "Am I speaking Hindi?" In the afternoon we headed to the mall, where we bought tickets to see the newest Bollywood film, Barfi. While I had some major issues with the plot, I really enjoyed it and was surprised that I could understand almost everything that was going on, despite the lack of subtitles.  The movie takes place in Darjeeling, and has a lot of the elements of everyday fairy tale inspiration that I liked so much in Amelie. I would definitely recommend it if it's playing near you. We took it easy that night, eating dinner with Caity and Sabeena's host mom and getting to bed early.

Baby gets juicy as mama chows down

The next day, Caity and her classmates went to study and Hannah and I headed off to be tourists. We took an auto to the foot of a hill, on the other side of which lay Galta, known colloquially as the Monkey Temple. We walked up the hill, taking in the landscape and the view of the dense city below.  The path was dotted with a hilarious menagerie of animals--monkeys, goats, cows, chickens, dogs, pigs and pigeons mingled with the temple goers and rummaged through the trash in the gutter in search of food. At the top of the hill we went in a small, white temple dedicated to the Hindu sun god. Some monkeys had perched on a motorcycle parked outside the temple; one was chewing on the fabric of the seat and two were sitting up front, in position to steer the thing. I couldn't have set up the shot if I'd tried. There were so many monkeys that it almost looked like the ground was moving at one point, but, unlike in Shimla, these monkeys were content to leave us alone and did not approach us aggressively.  The exception to this was when Hannah put her bag down for a second to take a picture, and a monkey quickly ran up and grabbed the snacks from her purse before she could stop him. As we began our descent on the other side of the mountain, an auto wallah had brought a bunch of watermelons to feed to the monkeys.  He took the melons, smashed them on the ground and gave the pieces to the monkeys, who greedily gorged themselves on the red juiciness. It's crazy to watch monkeys eat--they look so much like small people (grumpy old men, to be exact). Another sight to behold on the walk was the number of people--men, women and children--who just stopped on the side of the path in full view to relieve themselves. 

As the temple came into view, sand-colored buildings nestled in rich greenery, we felt like we were stumbling upon a treasure.  Walking down the steps into the temple's center, dozens of people were bathing in rectangular pools built into the rock of the cliffs. Monkeys and pigeons nested in the rocks above and watched the scene below of women splashing in their saris and men swimming in their underwear. As we walked towards the lower pool, a bright spectrum of color came into view, as women waded down the steps into the water in magenta, orange, vermilion, puce and turquoise.  The scene was so beautiful, watching the women who looked like jewels in the sun. We walked around the temple, taking pictures while trying to avoid the many topless women of all ages, and got in an auto headed back to the city center.  After eating lunch, we went to the Hava Mahal, the Palace of the Winds, one of Jaipur's most famous landmarks.  It was a Mughal palace built in 1799; the structure resembles that of a beehive from the outside, with windows that look like geometric compartments.  While not in the best condition, the building was very beautiful and we were both glad we had come. We then met up with the other girls, relaxed at a coffee shop for a while, and then headed to dinner at a hotel restaurant adjacent to a fixed price jewelry store--a match made in heaven! We relaxed over beer and biryani, bought some bling and enjoyed the pleasant weather.  

At 4AM, Hannah and I dragged ourselves out of bed and headed for the train station, where we were met once again with so many people on the floor of the main terminal hall that it was hard to step around the sleeping bodies. We boarded the train and I climbed to the top bunk where I got a few hours of restless sleep, before resigning myself to sitting sleepily next to Hannah on the crowded bottom bunk, crammed with other passengers. The last two hours of the journey seemed to take forever, stopping so many times within the Delhi metropolitan area that I thought we'd never make it.  With about an hour left to go, Hannah turned to me with an important question: "On a scale of 1-10," she said, "how open are you to going to the Bagels Cafe before we go home?" Not a week earlier, we had discovered the gem that is the Bagels Cafe, a restaurant near where we live that serves--you guessed it--bagels and cream cheese that are way better than mediocre! Arriving at our station around noon, exhausted and smelly and cramped and starving, we took the metro to our stop, got in an auto and emerged in bagel heaven. It was certainly no H&H, but let me tell you, I think it was the best bagel I've ever had.

To see all of my photos of Jaipur, click here and enjoy!