THE PINK CITY: Jaipur

Day One

As mentioned in the previous post, I had an early train. I made it without a hitch this time: no speeding through the early morning traffic or sprinting to my platform. This particular morning was very pleasant and relaxed, and I found myself on my platform before the train had even come in to the station, which is how I typically like to do things here in India. I chatted with some nice Canadian professors before napping and eating my "Meals on Wheels" breakfast.

Jaipur came into view around noon, and I set about trying to find a place to stay. I thought I had reserved a room at a hotel, but it turns out I had only done that in my mind, so I allowed my rickshaw driver to take me to one of his places. People advise against it, but I liked the guy and didn't know Jaipur very well, so I let him drive me around.

But let me back up a little to the moment that I first met my rickshaw driver. He was one of those persistent ones that was around from the minute I got off the train, asking if I needed his services. I am immediately put off by that kind of in-your-face business, and so I shrugged him off and went to try and find a more secluded area where I could pull out my journal and check the name of my hotel. I set my backpack down and looked up. Standing about three feet from me, there he was. I narrowed my eyes and continued my search. I felt him come a little closer and hear, "Madame, you need taxi?" I looked up from my journal and sighed loudly. "Eik minute, ok?" I snapped, using what little Hindi I knew to let him know that I wasn't just a clueless tourist. He smiled broadly at my attempt at his language and chuckled. "Ok ok, eik minute," he agreed, and moved away again. 

When I finally found the name of the hotel, I found him still waiting and I accepted his taxi service. I hefted my backpack onto my back and we walked away from the train station and toward the mess of auto-rickshaws in the parking lot. The first thing I noticed about the rickshaws in Jaipur were the fact that many of them were totally tricked out: bright colors, decals, flower garlands. My driver led me to his rickshaw. At first glance, it was clear that this was one of the flashiest ones: the inside was lined with red velvet, the seat was embroidered with a floral design, and there were huge speakers installed behind the passenger seat. "Welcome to my Indian Ferrari," he said, and he held out his hand for my bag.

The place I ended up staying, Sajjan Niwas, was a nice, if slightly earnest, "heritage" haveli (mansion) in a quiet area away from the busy Old City section of Jaipur. With a little help from my driver, I managed to bargain for free wi-fi on the condition that I didn't tell the other guests I wasn't paying for it. (If you ever go to Jaipur and stay at this place, don't tell the guy I told you.) It was a nice place with a rooftop restaurant, but it seemed like it was trying a little too hard to be evocatively "Indian". After a couple hours of unpacking and napping, I set out to explore a bit of the city.

My biggest accomplishment of that day, aside from buying my first Indian bus ticket, was seeing an awesome 360 view of Jaipur from the Minar. I can't remember what it's called (FIND THE NAME), but it's the tallest thing in Japiur, and the city stretches out from it in all directions. You can see the whole of the Old City, the newer sections of the city sprawling out around it, and the fort up on the ridge in the distance. It was a beautiful way to first see the city, and for only 20 rupees, it was worth the climb. The spiral staircase up to the top reminded me of a family vacation to Italy, during which my brother and I made our parents climb up just about every dome we saw.

Day Two

My hotel room turned out to be right next to some sort of important 24-hour meeting place for what I presumed to be hotel workers. They had a lot of important business to conduct, late into the night, outside my door. So, after a night of fitful sleep, I prepared to explore the Pink City. Here are the highlights:

City Palace. A beautiful series of courtyards, throne rooms, and fancy gates, with lots of cool paintings and a remarkable textile exhibit. My favorite parts of this site included the largest silver jugs in the world (they are just about as tall as I am and accompanied a Maharaja to London filled with river water from the Ganges); four intricately decorated gates that artistically represent the four Indian seasons: monsoon, winter, spring, and summer; the outfit of one of the Maharajas of Jaipur who supposedly weighed over 500 pounds (his pants were hilarious).

Gettin' the audio guide. I am quite the Smart Girl.

It doesn't look very big, but it's only an inch shorter than I am.

Jantar Mantar. The catchy title captures the whimsical nature of this astrological garden, a collection of weird-looking instruments that measure various things of astrological importance. I didn't get the audio guide for this one, and I am kicking myself now for it, because I feel that I missed out on a lot of cool information. Even without the guide, though, I felt like I was walking through a sculpture garden at an art museum. Marble and metal were incorporated to create endlessly interesting angles and curves, and everything--literally everything--had metric lines on it.

Hey! I found my sign!

Hawa Mahal. I had seen this from the outside the day before and told myself I wasn't going to go, but I managed to finagle a student discount composite ticket for 5 different sites, so I went to check it out. I'm really glad I did, because it was beautiful! Hawa Mahal means "Palace of the Winds", which sounds really fancy, and it was constructed so that the ladies of the palace could look out over the workings of the city without being seen. Apparently, it was a bad thing for women to be seen. (I'm just not going to get into that right now.) Regardless of how I feel about the reason behind the building, the architecture itself is a gorgeous 5 stories of stone screen work and stained glass. The whole complex is pretty open, so you can explore these cool little courtyards and arched hallways. I felt like I was sneaking around and discovering things that no one had found before, so needless to say I had a great time.

Those birds are alive and not part of the sculpture.

Albert Hall Museum. Another site included in the composite ticket, this museum is a beautiful building that I visited at precisely the wrong time. Every school group in Jaipur visited Albert Hall at the same time I did, and they were not a quiet bunch. Even though I was mildly interested in the exhibits, particularly the pottery, textiles, and musical instruments, I found myself almost running through the museum in an attempt to get away from the crowds of yelling students. Outside, though it was less packed, it was more obnoxious, because all of those students wanted to take a picture with me. I made the mistake of siting on a bench and trying to journal, and found myself surrounded by about 15 or 20 people trying to make some memories with the white girl. At first, I was totally annoyed and tried to wave them off, but in the end it was so ridiculous that I laughed and did silly poses with them. That situation was a prime example of how humor got me through India when I thought I was going to go crazy.

Day Three

With a head cold and a lot of blogging to do (what up, Smart Girls!), I decided to stay in on my third day in Jaipur. This was the first of my "do nothing" days, and I have learned to love them. Initially, I was a little ashamed to sleep in and relax: there's so much to experience and so many historical buildings to wander through and I'M GOING TO MISS EVERYTHING IF I DON'T DO IT TODAY. But I realized that that was a stupid mindset because it sets me up for failure right from the start. Health first. Sightseeing second. It seems like that would be a "duh" statement, but it's surprisingly difficult to rationalize when you're on the road and you only have so much time. 

So another big lesson that I've come to realize on this trip is that, no matter how many trips you take, or how many days you spend in a particular city or state or country, you will always be missing something. There's always something that someone did last year that's a total "can't-miss", and there's always that one monument or that restaurant or that national park. It's literally impossible to see everything. Initially, that thought sounds very defeatist, but if you look closer, you realize that's kind of the beauty of it. If it were actually possible to see everything in the world, if the number of wonderful sights and experiences the world has to offer could fit on a finite list, wouldn't travel lose some of its appeal? People keep going out because there's always something new, something that's changed. Trips are planned based on the mind-blowing experiences of friends and strangers and articles found in magazines. Wanderlust is so beautiful because it can never really be satiated. And, on the flip side of all this change, that historical monument that's been standing for several thousand years will probably last quite a bit longer, so you can always come back.

So, after a day of minimal effort, I made my way to Pushkar!

New Delhi

Day One
3:00 AM. I awoke after a mere 5 hours of sleep to get ready in the dark. A planner by nature, I had already packed most of my things and set my clothes out, so I didn't have much to do but put my backpack on and brush my teeth. My neighbor, Julia, had offered to walk down with me to the road, so I snuck into her house to wake her up. We trudged down the switchback path with our flashlights, gravel and vegetation crunching under our feet. At the bottom of the path, we spied a car. That car was certainly my taxi. What other car would be idling on the road at 3:30 in the morning? Upon further contemplation of that question, I realized again how much trust I would need to cultivate in order to get through this trip and remain sane. We packed my bag into the back of the cab, I gave Julia a big hug (the last Woodstocker I saw before leaving!), and I climbed in.

As we drove through the main bazaar, I was in for a surprise. Because of Diwali, there were lights and lanterns strung over the streets. The light was blazing and gave the scene a weird glow. The first of many defied expectations on my journey.

The streets of the bazaar were bright as day with their Diwali glow, lights strung carefully between buildings over the narrow way. A few late-night revelers set off firecrackers. As we wound through the streets and out of the city, I silently bade it all a fond farewell. Down the mountain, Mussoorie looked like a crown of jewels, a crescent of sparkles set on the ridge. We swung around it like a pendulum, each siting sending me farther and farther away. Each hotel down the road was covered in lights, strand after strand cascading down the roof. I wonder how anyone staying there can sleep for all the glow. I start my November journey on the first day of the Hindu New Year, the day after Diwali. An auspicious day, I think, one of renewal and of resolution.

After a train ride that should have been advertised as the Wailing Baby Express, I got my first taste of New Delhi: the Metro. I don't have any pictures because they're very strict about anti-terrorist security, but the stations were spacious and clean, the trains ran on time, and everything was very efficient. The first time I used the Metro, I didn't know how to find the Ladies Car (yes, there is a specific car in each train designated for the ladies of New Delhi), so I just hopped on the train where I saw a couple women. Immediately, everyone started playing "Let's Stare at the White Girl." It was actually incredible how completely everyone's attention was fixed on me. All conversation stopped for a moment, then resumed with increased intensity, presumably about me.

I got off at the Qutb Minar stop and managed, after several wrong turns and phone calls to my hostess, to get to my destination: my friend's mother's house outside Delhi proper. It was there that I met Monica, my friend's mother, and Nicole, a woman who I'd met at Woodstock a week ago who just happened to be staying there at the same time! Crazy coincidence. Since Nicole went to Woodstock, she has several friends living in the Delhi area, and she called one of them, Prateek, to see if he was free. After several hours of relaxing, her friend called to tell us that he was outside the gate. We walked outside and encountered Prateek and his Mercedes (no big deal- it was very clearly the nicest car I had ever seen). Prateek took us to an area of Delhi called Hauz Khas, known for its bars. We spent the evening hanging out with some of Prateek's friends, eating and drinking some beer. It was a great time, and the drive back to Monica's, with the sunroof open, the music blasting, was totally exhilarating.


Day Two
The next day, I got up early (well, early-ish) and went to explore the city. I had to walk a while in my attempt to find an autorickshaw (which will henceforth be referred to as "autos"), a small bus pulled up and a small boy jumped out, shouting, "Metro station??" at me. I nodded and asked how much the trip would cost. "10 rupees." Hey, a deal! I walked up to the bus and looked inside. About 10 men stared curiously back at me. Hm. I scanned their faces and, not seeing anyone looking particularly sinister, I jumped in. They created a spot for me and proceeded to openly stare, not in an aggressive or sexual way, but with curiosity. One of the men asked me a couple of the standard questions: Where are you from, how long in India, you married, etc., and another man complemented me on my Punjabi suit. All in all, it was a perfectly pleasant, if somewhat crowded, trip.

My sightseeing in Delhi turned out to be rather frustrating, as well as on the expensive side. The city sprawls, and the sights are so far separated from each other that it doesn't make sense to walk, even if sidewalks were common. As it is, walking Delhi is difficult at best, damn near impossible at worst. That means taking autos or the Metro everywhere, which makes for a disoriented Katherine. I am someone who enjoys walking, not only for the exercise it brings, but also because it's how I orient myself in a space, it allows me to interact with what's around me, and it's free! There are so many benefits to walking, and I found myself uncomfortably confined to autos for the duration of my stay in Delhi. That being said, there were two highlights to my day: India Gate and Humayun's Tomb.

India Gate is a memorial constructed near the government buildings of Delhi. It was designed by Sir Edwin Lutyens, and it honors the 70,000 Indian soldiers who gave their lives fighting for the British in WWI.

Perk of traveling alone: shameless selfies.

Humayun's Tomb is a wonderful monument that is currently be restored to its former Mughal glory. Built in 1570 for Emperor Humayun, it is the first garden-tomb to be constructed on the subcontinent. It's an example of early Mughal style architecture, and inspired several other constructions throughout the Mughal reign, eventually leading to the construction of the Taj Mahal. The gardens were beautiful and the grounds were larger than I expected. I ended up staying for about three hours, taking in the buildings and the nature, journaling, and people-watching.

Take the time to really read these instructions. It'll be worth your while.

I had to.

Day Three

Day Three in Delhi began at 4:30, and by 5, it was full of yelling. Monica, my host, had booked me a cab to take me to the train station, where I had a train at 6:00 AM. The taxi service was supposed to call Monica 20 minutes before they arrived at 5 AM. There was no call. There was no cab. At 5:10, I woke up Monica to let her know, and she called the taxi company and ripped them a new one. Choice words were used. Consumer court was threatened. 15 minutes later, I was walking with the guard to the main road to await the taxi that, surely, was arriving shortly. 10 minutes after that, around 6:42, the cab arrived and I leapt in. I called Monica to let her know that I was indeed in the cab on the way to the airport. As the driver sped through the streets, laying on the horn, I thought a) I was going to die in a taxi in New Delhi, and b) I was totally going to miss my train if I did actually make it to the station.

The cab stopped at the main entrance to the station. I threw money at the driver, not bothering with change, and raced to the entrance, fumbling for my ticket. Scanning the departure board, I located my train. Platform One. As luck would have it, I was standing on Platform 16, the furthest thing away from where I needed to be. I raced up the stairs to the elevated walkway, taking them three at a time, my day pack slapping against my back and my mouth dry. Almost tripping down the stairs to my platform, a miracle! My train was still there, and it wasn't even moving yet! I leapt onto a car, not bothering to check my ticket. After confirming that this was the correct train (how embarrassing if I went to the wrong city after all this hassle), I allowed myself to breathe, and I oriented myself toward my car and my waiting seat.

Agra rolled into view two hours later, and I got off and grabbed a rickshaw. I ended up hiring the guy for the entire day, and I thank K.K. for his safe driving, his advice, and his stories. K.K.'s company made Agra a really enjoyable city for me, and I had a great day. We went to several sites besides the Taj Mahal, including the tomb of I'Timad-ud-Daulah, aka the "Baby Taj"; an archaeological site called The Chini-ka-Rauzah, known for its glazed tile decorations, and the colorful dhobi ghats, among other things.

Had to.

Then there was the Taj Mahal itself. Now, I could mention a lot of things that countless other people have said about the Taj: it's the most perfect building in the world, it's so much better in person than in pictures, it was the most beautiful building I have ever seen, taking photos doesn't do it justice, etc. etc. We've all heard it, and I would add that it's true. But it's not interesting. So I'll tell you some other things that I loved about going to the Taj.

I saw parrots in the wild for the first time.

A family asked me to take a photo of them with my own camera. (Probably one of the most unexpected photo requests I've gotten in India.)

I (supposedly) met a man from London who works as an assistant to the executive producers of Downton Abbey. He was very casual about it. We had a nice chat. He had a nice jawline. (No, I didn't get a picture.)

And here are some photos (that totally don't do the building justice):

The first glimpse! 

Had to.

A close-up of the semi-precious stone inlay, called pietra dura.

The mosque to the side of the main mausoleum. Or was it the mirror building?
Both are identical, so you can never be sure...

Day Four

After my early, and rather long, day in Agra, I slept in and chilled out for the morning. I met yet another of Nicole's friends and classmates, Mhabeni. When I finally did go out, it was to go shopping with these three ladies at Dilli Haat. For just 20 Rupees, you gain entrance into a clean, (almost) hassle-free bazaar filled with goods from all over India. The stalls change every 11 days or so, and there are some great food stands. After a day of shopping--I mostly looked, but I did purchase a great purse and some stationary--we returned to Monica's and I packed up and hit the hay early; another early train ride awaited me in the morning. 

On to Jaipur!

Chillin' with the Buddha: Varanasi Part Two

DAY 3
After I showered, post Ganga sludge, I met up with the Brits that I mentioned earlier and we went to the nightly puja at the main ghat. The word puja refers generally to a Hindu religious ritual that serves as an offering. This particular puja has gained notoriety with Indian and Other tourists alike, and has become the event of the evening in Varanasi. After haggling with some boat men, we climbed aboard a boat to get a front row seat. There was lots of fire and smoke, and the boat men kept piling people onto the boats, which were tied together in a flotilla. We all joked that, after the ceremony was over, they would release the boats and we would float down the Ganga as offerings.

The flotilla of tourist captives.

Smoke!

Fire!

Cute children!

DAY 4
I chose the right day to head out of the city. The past two days had been misty and cloudy, thanks to a typhoon off the eastern coast of India, near Orissa. The weather headed out, thankfully, and I headed out of town to visit Sarnath, a little town famous for its archaeological ruins and Buddhist spirituality. After a 45-minute tuk-tuk ride and some seriously bruised kidneys, I arrived at a little junction with a museum, an archaeological site, and a beautiful garden temple. I chose to do the museum first.

As I walked in to the museum, I realized that I had never been to an Indian museum before. This one, however, was much like museums I had attended elsewhere, aside from some of the ubiquitous Indian grammatical errors on the informational plaques. There were really cool pieces of stonework and architecture from the nearby site, and gorgeous statues of bodhisattvas and the Buddha. It was quiet (and air conditioned!), and inexpensive.

After visiting the museum, I went to the actual archaeological site where, it is said, the Buddha gave his first sermon after he achieved enlightenment. Cool. There were vast temple ruins, and the remains of stupa, currently in the process of being restored. For those who may not know, a stupa is a monument, usually dome or bell-shaped, that houses relics to commemorate important persons or events. (Want more information? http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/570059/stupa.) This particular stupa, if I have my fact right, is where the Buddha first preached his sermon. As I walked around the ruins, picking my way through throngs of Buddhist tourists and worshippers, I tried to imagine the kind of temple that would have existed here. Here are some photos of the area:

I then headed over to the temple garden area, which was a wonderful respite from the tour groups and hasslers trying to sell me spinning Buddhas. The flowers were wonderful, the area was quiet, and the piece de resistance:

An 80-foot Buddha.

This is the tallest Buddha statue in the country, and was the result of an Indo-Thai partnership going back to 1970. It took 14 years to complete, beginning in 1997 and ending in 2011. It's a really beautiful statue in a gorgeous location, and I spent about an hour there, ambling through the gardens, taking pictures, and journaling.

Chillin' with the Buddha.

This day was also the first time that I was asked to take a picture with a group of Indians. I've been officially tokenized!

After a little downtime at the hotel, I went back down to Assi Ghat to seek out some apple pie back at the pizzeria I found the day before. Thus begins one of my favorite memories in India so far:

Down at Assi Ghat, the sun was warm and soft, the breeze was refreshing, and everyone seemed to be under its spell. Even the touts were less aggressive, more lackadaisical. The far side of the Ganga was clear and green, the boats were bright in the late afternoon light. It was a magical time, with folks of all kinds sitting on the steps, chatting and eating aloo chaat. I sat by the water and watched a group of goats head-butt each other.

My last, clear day in Varanasi.

After a time, I went back to the pizzeria and ordered my apple pie. It arrived on a white plate with vanilla bean ice cream on top. I took a bite. Oh, my lord. What delicious apple pie. The crust was crumbly and crispy and had great taste, the apples were just the right texture, and the ice cream was juuuuust melty enough. For 70 rupees (about $1.20), I could have eaten them out of business.

The incredible pie. Amazing. Stunning.

DAY 5
My train was late arriving in the station and continued that trend throughout my journey, stretching my 21-hour ride to a whopping 27 hours. That's not really the important part, though. The important part is that I rode SLEEPER CLASS on the way back to school, and I had a blast.

Sleeper Class is the "dreaded" class of the train system for western tourists, and particularly (supposedly) for women. It's basically a huge open train car full of berths and no privacy. Admittedly, I have heard several horror stories (through the grapevine) of assaults, thefts, etc. I have also heard great things from women I know, traveling alone on sleeper class, and loving it! When I told people that I was riding sleeper class, they paused and said, "Huh. You're brave." Well, I'm not, really. I'm just poor, and I forgot to book a ticket in time.

I got on and realized that I was in a compartment full of men. That would have been awful, but the great thing about sleeper class is that the population ebbs and flows with each and every station, so the male domination was short-lived. Some highlights of the trip include:

The reeds that a nice man gave to me to create a jungle on my berth:

This ADORABLE BABY:

These two guys who kept me company and cuddled with each other through the whole trip:

After the borderline miserably-long train ride, I finally arrived back in Mussoorie, tired and in serious need of a shower. After dinner and a drink, I settled in and realized: my first solo trip was a success!