INDIA Pt.2 (Jodhpur, Jaipur)
I flew to Jodhpur by propeller plane and landed on India’s first international airstrip. The last Maharajah was really into flying and made sure his city’s aerial facilities were on par with the Brits as his city industrialized. Jodhpur’s vibe was my favorite of all the Indian cities I’d visited so far; not too crowded and fairly easy to navigate by foot. My hostel was run by happy-go-lucky stoners who were dancing in the lobby when I arrived.
I dropped my things off and went to grab some food at a cafe overlooking one of the city’s famous step-wells (which inspired the architecture of the prison Bane emerged from in Dark Knight Rises). I borrowed a lighter from a woman smoking alone with a short stack of books and we ended up making conversation over dinner for the next hour.
Sanjana, born in New Delhi and a graduate from Columbia in New York. She’s one of a handful of Indians that return to the country after receiving an American education, but coming home was always part of her plan. Sanjana works in Jodhpur managing rural sanitation efforts. Open defecation is a major problem outside cities and she’s trying to figure out how to convince both men and women to improve their hygiene. The caste system still serves as a tremendous cultural obstacle. Getting sanitation workers is difficult, even if they’re well paid, since the work is perceived as lower-caste and beneath them. To make things harder, government coordination is a nightmare; emails are literally scanned letters that are sent digitally and then printed on the other end, where they receive a written response that is then scanned and sent back as an attachment. It was fun hearing about an inefficient bureaucracy besides the United States for once.
Sanjana gave me a brief tour of the surrounding area after dinner, which included one hotel with a stunning view of an illuminated fort overlooking the city. And a newly opened hotel down the street with a vintage car collection donated by the previous president. We were joined by her boyfriend, Mayank, and grabbed drinks at a local cafe. Mayank’s family is doing pretty well in the state of Rajasthan. His father was an architect for a major university before opening his own. Now they run schools and hospitals throughout the region, with Mayank overseeing the latter in Jodhpur. Mayank is in an entrepreneur through and through. Sanjana had also started a company in the past. The three of us passed the time talking about startups, the blockchain (kill me), and politics. It was interesting hearing her perspective on building products for an Indian market.
The next day I visited some old, royal gardens, where monkeys and cows casually roamed the grounds. I walked inside the outdoor tombs of past rulers, marveling at the intricate, red stonework. I made a quick stop at the presidential palace, half of which has been converted into a seven-star hotel. The other half is a museum to the Maharajah who modernized Jodhpur.
I went to the district of Nav Chow Kia next, famous for the buildings painted blue by the upper caste of priests. I joined two other travelers from my hostel along the way and spent the afternoon taking pictures in and of the vibrant alleyways with them.
Fearing any online spoilers for the latest Star Wars movie, I found the only cinema in Jodhpur showing the film in English. I was one of three tourists in the run down cinema, where staff outnumbered moviegoers two to one. I didn’t know Indian theaters injected 20 minutes of commercials right in the middle of films, and I was on the verge of ending my life by the time the movie resumed.
I spent the next day with Tatijana (a German traveler I met in from Amristar), exploring Meangher Fort, a red sandstone behemoth (also used in the Dark Knight Rises). The sheer size of the fortress overlooking the rest of the city was truly something to behold. I thought back to all of the European castles I’d seen in the past, and they didn’t hold a candle to how truly gargantuan this place is. We ended the day zip-lining through the fort’s battlegrounds, overlooking the blue city as the sun set.
I met with Sanjana and Mayank for a small literary festival later that night, where four musicians from different religions played songs that crossed borders and beliefs. They intermixed Rumi’s teachings with the Beatles’ “Let it Be” and wrapped up their performance with a lively jam session that got everyone on their feet. The evening closed with some comedic, spoken-word freestyles. We had a formal feast in an adjacent hotel afterwards, where I watched two patronizing old men with impressive mustaches try to mansplain the real root causes of rural open defecation to Sanjana even though she was literally an expert.
I booked a bus ticket for Jaipur the next day and killed time decompressing indoors. I “cultured” myself with some more Indiana Jones and re-watched Dark Knight Rises (felt appropriate), before catching a tuk-tuk to the bus station at night. A large bus was waiting for me, aisles stacked with bunk-beds and illuminated by neon lights. I climbed into my hole and closed my eyes, opening them again in a new city.
Jaipur
6 a.m. Ejected from my bus. Weary, but alert, thanks to the cacophony of horns blaring from six different buses attempting to escape the congested station via a single lane road. I arrived at my hostel too early to check in, so I dropped off my bags and went sightseeing until my room was ready. More forts round two. On the way, my tuk-tuk driver took me through Jaipur’s old town, nicknamed the “Pink City” (which was more peach than pink, but ~aesthetic~ nonetheless).
I hired a charming guide at the Amber Palace who gave me an in depth tour that not only covered the history of the palace, but also highlighted many of the engineering feats achieved by the structure from 1594. Each hall, building, and courtyard was meticulously designed, with rooms positioned to catch sunlight, retain heat, illuminate completely in candle light, and air condition without electricity. An advanced water storage and irrigation system ran throughout the entire complex since Jaipur is located in the desert.
I bought a pashmina scarf from the fort’s gift-shop, having heard legends of the lightweight, warm wool shaved from the chins of Himalayan goats, only to find out how badly I was ripped off from my tuk-tuk driver. The pashmina was authentic, but the price was daylight robbery. What’s worse, my tour guide was in on it and apparently gets a commission for any scarves sold to unsuspecting tourists. Every tourist gets ripped off at some point in India. Lesson learned. I ended the day at the Monkey Temple, where a 50 cent bag of peanuts buys you some family friendly primate entertainment. Monkeys approach you and grab peanuts from your hand. It’s cute. Not much more to say about that. Here’s a monkey:
I met up with Julie (a Belgian living in London that I met at Berkeley who happened to be traveling around India [stay with me]) in the evening, and had dinner with her friends and a colleague of a colleague who had just moved to Jaipur. The latter took us to a fancy restaurant where we gorged ourselves on Indian cuisine before ending the night at an ice cream parlor next door. The next day primarily took place on my hostel’s rooftop due to a feeling of creeping travel burnout. I wanted nothing to do with the outside world, so I spent the morning and afternoon sketching and listening to podcasts. I emerged from my metaphorical cave that night to join Julie at a small pub, where we talked about where we’re at in life and where we’d like to go from here (especially given the current political/economic climate). It was so delightful bumping into and chatting with a good friend in the middle of India of all places. We were giddy at the thought of it.
Jaipur day 4: More sightseeing. The Tiger Fort housed an interesting sculpture exhibit from artists around the world. The Birla Mandir had beautiful stained glass windows of Hindu deities. There wasn’t much to do at the iconic Wind Palace besides look at it. I was really knotted up the whole day, feeling an underlying sadness, anger, and exhaustion I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Luckily, my hostel roommate and her sister were in the mood to go clubbing when I returned, and I relieved some stress on a dance-floor built into an old palace.
I checked out of my hostel and moved into a “heritage hotel” (royal building re-purposed for accommodation) for the next few days. I scored a free night and a discount thanks to Mayank, from Jodhpur, who used to date the hotel owner’s daughter years ago. I was stranded in Jaipur waiting to ship some goods home, but everything was closed for the next few days since it was Christmas Eve. The owners had a big, goofy golden retriever that I talked to more than I’d like to admit.
I met a brother and sister, Alex and Caroline, travelling together from France and joined them for dinner. Alex had been to India several times and absolutely loves it, almost to a weeaboo level; dressing in full kota, speaking English tinged with an Indian accent, and mentioning random bits of Indian trivia whenever the opportunity presented itself. He either had or was planning to study abroad in New Delhi. Caroline was new to the country, and the siblings’ father hired a highly incompetent private driver out of fear she might find the sub-continent too overwhelming. Over dinner, Alexander abruptly opened up about the frustration and sadness he was feeling towards a meaningful relationship that ended six months ago. I appreciated his vulnerability, which allowed the conversation to transition away from small talk and towards topics I’ve spent a lot of time meditating on myself. We headed to Palladio afterwards to continue our conversation, a ritzy bar adjacent to Jaipur’s most famous heritage hotel (a re-purposed, royal hunting lodge that charges $1000 per night). Palladio’s interior was painted completely blue with white accents. They served traditional Italian meals at U.S. prices.
Alex and I had a long discussion about forgiving our parents for the trauma they both wittingly and unwittingly passed on to us, the practice of processing and accepting loss, and releasing anger and regret. We stood in the bar’s courtyard, downing delicious cocktails in front of a wood fire, sound-tracked by traditional Urdu songs from a Christmas Eve concert a few meters away (a full stage with only seven people in attendance since no one cared to pay entry to an empty venue). We continued talking all the way back to our hotel before parting ways just after midnight.
I spent the next two days holed up at the hotel, catching up on writing and sleep and taking short breaks to wander the neighborhood whenever I grew hungry. My primary objective was figuring out how to ship a package back to the U.S., which ended up being a larger and longer undertaking than expected. I should have expected it though, given that any bureaucratic machine in India is a faceless behemoth that moves entirely at its own pace. After a series of tuk-tuk rides, stressful phone calls, WhatsApp messages, and a $100 hit to my wallet, my package was off to the States. Hopefully it’s waiting for me when I return.
With my package successfully shipped, I checked out of my hotel the next morning and moved to a cheaper hostel for my last two days in Jaipur.
