Just of few more of the photos I want to share.

He was selling newspapers at a stop light but the paper was in Hindustani so we couldn’t buy one. They press their faces up against the window and almost hang onto the car. The beggars try to look pathetic though the kids can’t quite pull that off. Some are selling newspapers or try to perform a song or dance. This was most prevalent in the roads in the big cities. 

We passed through many small towns where life seemed to be conducted along the main road.

The other message on the trucks besides Blow Horn was Use Dipper at Night. That means that trucks coming up from behind should dim their lights so as not to blind the driver in this truck with the bright lights shining in his rear view mirror.

No problem with bright lights here.

Interesting place to hang tires.

Anywhere northern India.

Decoratively arranged cow pats.

We saw this a lot but never tried any. I liked the bottles.

And so ends our tour of northern India…..

Hi All,

Almost at the end of our trip to northern India; just one more email after this.

Ru

My knowledge of Indian history consists of watching the Masterpiece Theater series "The Jewel in the Crown," the movies Gandhi, and Slumdog Millionaire and reading the mystery Mumbai Ice and the Booker Award winning book The God of Small Places and William Dalrymple’s City of Djinns: A Year in Delhi. All of that adds up to “not much.” It is really too bad that Elizabeth and Patrick aren’t here because between them, they know pretty much everything about British history which covers most of the last few centuries of Indian history. And since we’re about to move to Turkey, it’s not likely I’ll be taking the time to learn much more about India, at least not now. However, after visiting Indira Gandhi’s home in New Delhi I might one day have to read more about her.

Our last morning in Delhi we tried to cram in two stops; the first at Indira Gandhi’s home and the second at the ancient Qutab Minar. It was a Saturday morning and we arrived about 9:15 am shortly after opening time at Gandhi’s home. At this point we no longer had Sandeep as a driver so Randal volunteered to stay in the taxi with all of our stuff. Linda, Michael and I went through, not really rushing but not taking the time it really deserved. There were lots of photos and each told an interesting story about Gandhi. And in a room off to one side there was a sign about a movie we wouldn’t have time to watch. I did take some photos of Gandhi as a young woman and of her beautiful home.

Young Indira Nehru

Indira Gandhi was the daughter of Nehru. Her married name was Gandhi, but she was not related to “Gandhi.”

Other visitors at the museum.

Her home.

The rooms were blocked off with glass making it hard to take photos but I loved the open space and book shelves and rugs and it how light each room seemed to be.

At the end of this path in her garden, Indira Gandhi was assassinated by her two Sikh body-guards on October 31, 1984.

“Today, Mrs. Gandhi’s house is a shrine dedicated to the former Prime Minister’s memory. Busloads of school children trail through licking ice cream (not any more, Michael had to give up his water) and staring at Mrs. Gandhi’s rooms, now permanently frozen as they were on the day she died. Her Scrabble set, a signed photograph from Ho Chi Minh, a pair of her knitting needles and her books- an unlikely selection, including Marx, Malraux and The Diaries of Evelyn Waugh- all lie behind glass, numbered and catalogued. …as she lay there pouring with blood from some twenty bullet wounds, Indira Gandhi was still alive.

An ambulance was waiting outside the gate of her house, as regulation demanded, but, this being Delhi, the driver had disappeared for a tea break. So Indira’s daughter-in-law, Sonia Gandhi, bundled the Prime Minister into the back of a decrepit Hindustan Ambassador, and together they drove the three miles to the All-India Medical Institute.

Indira was probably dead on arrival, but it was not until one o’clock that the news was broken to the waiting world. The effect was immediate. When the crowds learned that their leader had been assassinated, and that a Sikh was responsible, the thin ice of Delhi’s tenuous peace was shattered. The mourners wanted blood. Grabbing sticks and stones and whatever else came to hand, they set off looking for Sikhs.” Pgs 27 and 28 City of Djinns by William Dalrymple

Sikhs: Followers of the religion founded by Guru Nanak in the Punjab in the fifteenth century-a sort of compromise between Islam and Hinduism. Sikhs believe in one God and are opposed to idol worship. They are hard working and, though they make up less than 1 percent of India’s population, are both prominent and unmistakable: in obedience to Guru Nanak’s command, observant Sikh men never cut their hair, and sport a turban and a long beard. p. 342 Dalrymple

Following the Partition of India after its independence, many Sikhs had moved from the Punjab area which became Pakistan after Partition. Because the two body-guards who assassinated Gandhi were Sikhs, there were horrible riots for days and many Sikhs were brutally killed.

I left the home and went back to the taxi and while Linda and Michael waited, I took Randal to see the rooms in the house. Amazingly there was no charge, nor was there a book shop selling anything; I might have been tempted to buy that biography. Randal keeps talking about building a house and I wanted him to see Gandhi’s because I really liked it. It was amazing how the crowd had grown in the short time and we had to wade our way through the busloads of people.

Then it was off to the Qutab Minar, the 240 foot tower of victory built by the first Sultan immediately after he had driven the Hindus from Delhi in 1192. But with the Saturday Delhi traffic and the quarter mile walk from the parking lot, we decided we just couldn’t do it and make it to the airport for our flight back to Cochin.

Qutab Minar from the parking lot.

These school girls were on their way in as we got back into our taxi for the trip to the airport.

During our first week in Delhi we drove past the India Gate one night.

The India Gate, 42 meters high was originally built as a memorial to the 90,000 Indian soldiers killed during World War I

The names are carved into the stone.

The India Gate is at one end of the Rajpath and the President’s Residence and other government buildings are at the other end.

It reminded me of the Washington Mall. There were lots of people there for the open space and vendors sold all kinds of things including devil horns and fake glasses with a nose attached. The man on the right displays both on his head.

Tomb of Sufi Saint, Sheikh Salim Chishti

Now everyone enters through these ebony doors: once only men were allowed to and women had a separate entrance on the right side of the tomb.

I would have had to stoop to come in through the women’s entrance though I think it is quite lovely.

Inside the center of the tomb where the Sufi Saint is buried.

For my ten rupee donation I was blessed with the peacock feather and didn’t feel guilty for taking a photo. But one had to rush through rather than take time to really look around.

Details of the decorative stone inlay.

The ebony doors.

Mughal Emperor Akbar had constructed Fatehpur Sikri in honor of the Sufi Saint, Sheikh Salim Chishti, who had predicted the birth of Jehangir, the son of Akbar. Now, women wishing to get pregnant tie red and yellow threads to the marble walls hoping that the Sufi Saint will help them conceive.

Pilgrims circumambulate around the central chamber of the tomb.

It was a huge complex.

Looking back to the main gate.

Only when exiting the main gate did I notice the hundreds of horse shoes nailed, for good luck, to the doors. Some, on the lowest rows, were nailed upside down so the luck will run out. Actually, the luck did run out. The town couldn’t provide enough water for all of the residents so Akbar moved his seat of power to Agra and abandoned the complex in Fatehpur.

Souvenir sellers had come while we were inside.

It really was a lovely, lively scene.

Then it was time to walk back to the car. Along the way I noticed a very young barber.

The barber chair was set up on the busy, crowded sidewalk, and this young boy was using a straight razor to shave his customer!

Serious but then a smile! I gave the boy a 20 rupee note, just because I was so impressed.

Then came the trained monkey. Periodically along the roadways, rather than paying tolls, people have to stop and pay taxes if they have a license plate from outside the state. While Sandeep was off paying the tax and having a cigarette, the monkey man brought his monkey to perform for us in exchange for some rupees. We didn’t give him any rupees, but Sandeep asked us to help the man and exchange his 3 US dollars for Rupees. Someone had given the man three $1 bills and he really couldn’t use them and it was too small an amount for a money changer. So Michael traded him rupees for the dollars and the man was very happy. Michael and Linda also had some old bananas from the hotel and the monkey got those.

Monkey balancing on a stick.

Monkey happily eating the bananas.

The monkey man, with very hennaed hair, was very happy with his rupees.

A marching band on a truck.

When they saw me taking photos, they all smiled and waved. From this point it was a short drive to the river side of the Taj Mahal where we watched the sun set.

Ru

DoraMac

On our way to Agra to see the Taj Mahal we stopped in Fatehpur Sikri. It was either on Linda’s list of things to see, or was suggested by our tour man, Nayeem; but I knew nothing about it. The fort complex charged a fee but the Mosque was free so Linda, Michael and I opted for the Mosque and Randal opted to stay in the car with Sandeep. We had no “local guide” though one man did attach himself to me in hopes that I would buy something from his friends. I listened to what he had to say about the Mosque but didn’t buy anything because I didn’t want to deal with the whole sales pitch bargaining ritual and I really didn’t want anything right then. If you could just walk around and browse, I think I might buy more than having to deflect all of the sales pitches especially from the small boys selling post cards. Actually I wish I had bought some of the post cards but if you ask to look you’re besieged with other kids selling their post cards…but the boys all were such good salesmen with excellent English skills and most were probably younger than 12. It was like being surrounded by knats, but cute friendly knats.

Though obviously not as stunningly beautiful as the Taj Mahal, there was something splendid about the Fatehpur Jami Mosque. Maybe the steps leading up to it or the sheer size of the entry gate, but it was truly impressive. There was no local guide and I hadn’t read the small bits in Linda’s India guide so I really knew nothing and missed quite a bit. But, even knowing nothing, it was easy to be impressed. Unfortunately, since we still had to continue on to Agra and try to see the Taj Mahal at sunset, we really didn’t have so much time.

“Jami Masjid or the Friday Mosque is one of the most beautiful and largest mosques of the world. This elegant building is the most sacred building and the principal mosque of the town and thus situated on the highest point of the ridge where Fatehpur Sikri is situated. In fact, the Buland Darwaja commemorating the victory of Akbar over Deccan and the Tomb of the famous Sufi Saint Sheikh Salim Chishti are a part of this spacious mosque complex. Built in the supervision of the saint himself and his descendants, it was completed in 1571. http://www.agraindia.org.uk/fatehpur-sikri/monuments/jami-masjid.html "

http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/255 for more info

On our way to Fatehpur we stopped for fuel as did this couple on their motorbike.

I tried to sneak the photo but they obviously caught on. If we hadn’t been ready to leave I would have gone over and actually asked so I could have captured his wonderful huge moustache and turban and her lovely bright sari.

We passed dozens of brick kilns some with white smoke and some with black.

Cow pats are used in India just as they were in Tibet.

Blow Horn was written on the back of almost every truck we saw: as if other drivers needed to be told.

Everyone honks all of the time so it’s a wonder anyone pays attention to horns and it’s so loud. Every now and then a truck had a horn like a clarinet and that was fun to hear. As Sandeep told us to drive you need three things: A good horn, good breaks, and a good driver. Did I mention that already? But when we passed motorbikes and Sandeep blared the horn I thought how much I would hate that if people did it to us as we rode our motorbike.

Garbage pigs of Fatehpur.

In Cochin the herds of wandering goats eat the trash. Up north, it was pigs. The first ones we saw in Delhi were a mother and 3 piglets in the alleyway near our hotel. They just ignored humans and went about their business of eating. Not sure what eventually happens to them or if they belong to anyone.

Walking towards the Mosque.

Sandeep knew we would be besieged by local men wanting to act as guides so pretended to drive past the entrance to the Fatehpur Sikri complex but then did a great fake out and turned in to the parking lot. As it was we had several small boys who wanted the job and who followed us half way on the half mile walk to the Mosque before giving up.

It was massive.

Buland Darwaza

“Buland Darwaza was built by the Mughal emperor Akbar in 1602 A.D. to celebrate his victory over Gujarat. This huge and magnificent structure is situated on the southern wall of the mosque, Jama Masjid. It is about 54 meters in height and is also considered as the highest gateway of the world. Serving as the main entrance to Fatehpur Sikri, it is referred as the ‘the gateway of magnificence’ by historians. “ http://www.indiacitytrip.com/Uttar-Pradesh-Destinations/places-to-see-in-fatehpur-sikri.aspx It looked a long way but not so many steps as the Philadelphia Art Museum. Does anyone walk up stairs like these and not think of “Rocky?”

Looking down the steps back into the middle ages…

A broader shot takes us back to the 21^st century.

Another mix or centuries…

The fruit looked tempting but we were warned about street food in India…too bad but even the water food was washed in became something to consider.

Shoes had to be removed and for a fee this young man would guard them. Most places like the temple in the Amber Fort complex, no one would bother them anyway. We carried our shoes most of the way, but at one point we were told even carrying our shoes wasn’t allowed so Michael volunteered to watch our shoes as Linda and I went into the tomb of the Sufi Saint.

The tomb of Sufi Saint Sheikh Salim Chishti

Next email, part 2

Ru

DoraMac

I am going with Linda this morning to experience an Indian Ladies Hair Salon. Linda had told Jose, the marina manager, that she needed to find someplace to get her hair cut and I made some kind of noise about my hair so we both have appointments this morning at the same salon his wife uses. I’m not getting mine cut, both Randal and my friend Bruce voted to keep it growing; but maybe they have some special conditioner that makes the Indian women’s hair so shiny. We’ll see.

Ru

Puppet Show

Thanks to my friend Martha who was THE Children’s Librarian at the Roanoke County Public Library for many years, I have come to appreciate puppets and the different stories created around them around the world. So I told Sandeep I wanted to see a puppet show. Amazingly there was one at the Pink Palace and it was free (though I did give them a good tip.) Just before it started a young tourist spied the drums and couldn’t resist a chance to play. But since he didn’t know the puppet show music they made him give it back.

“Puppetry, which is a real challenge to the imagination and the creative ability of the individual, is one of the most ancient forms of entertainment. Besides entertainment, puppetry serves as an applied art, conveying meaningful messages. Of all art forms, it is probably the least restricted in form, design, colour and movement. It is also the least expensive of all animated visual art forms.” http://www.puppetryindia.org/

The man in the black shirt was the puppet-master.

When the music started, these were no longer cloth and papier-mâché, but real actors!

She went spinning around like a dervish! and it was over way too soon.

In our early days in Cochin I had seen beautiful puppets sold along the streets and knew I just had to get one for Martha and her daughter Jess. The day Linda and I went shopping, I think I must have looked at dozens of the double-headed puppets until I finally found one that was perfect enough for a gift. Linda bought two and I bought one and she negotiated a great deal for us. (We saved at least $1 per puppet and in the spirit of the deal that was quite good.)

The “male puppet”

Turn it upside down and it becomes the “female puppet”

A trick of the camera, same puppet but the smile is really different

I read that the puppets often have no legs so the movement is less restricted and watching the puppet show I could understand why.

One of our stops was a carpet show room and though the rugs were very lovely and tempting, Randal is holding out for a “Turkish rug” from Turkey. Linda, Randal and I had warned Sandeep and our guide that we weren’t in the market and we warned the carpet salesman that we lived on boats, have no home to ship things to so aren’t in the market, but everyone still seemed disappointed that we didn’t buy any carpets; even the small ones. If we hadn’t been going to Turkey, we really might have been tempted!

Each large hand-made carpet takes about 3 months because workers will only weave a few hours each day because of the stress on their hands. And their hands moved so fast we had to ask them to slow down so we could actually see what they were doing. There are 3 qualities of carpet, wool with 200 knots per square inch, pashmina with 400 knots per square inch, and silk with 600 knots per square inch. So the thicker and more coarse the yarns, the fewer the knots, the lower the price.

Then with a “good" scissors the threads are cut but because they are individually knotted, everything stays put and you see the pattern. (In our house we had a pair of “good scissors” that were old and black and looked something like these. My mother used them for sewing and they were wonderful scissors. One day I heard the comedienne George Carlin perform a routine about his family and the “good scissors.” On the boat we had a pair of the “good scissors” but they broke so now we need a new pair.”)

Rug weaver’s tools: this particularly company employs about 500 workers.

Linda gets an explanation about the loom which was very similar to the one we saw in Tibet and about how the pattern is established.

The carpets were beautiful.

The salesman asked Randal to pick a thread in the rug and then he pulled it out to demonstrate the difference between a hand-knotted carpet and a machine made carpet. If it’s handmade and a thread gets pulled out, only that thread will come out. If it’s machine-made the whole row will come out and be noticeable.

The Pink Palace which we didn’t see because of its high priced tickets.

You see these pink walls all around the city from a pink wash applied to the walls. Many city walls are mandated to remain this color if they are in certain areas.

We would have had to pay 2,500 rupees = $55 per ticket and then add another dollar or so to take photos. We just didn’t think it worth that much money though it is supposed to be beautiful. And, our guide said with a completely straight face, you are given tea or coffee inside the Palace. I asked him if anyone ever buys the tickets and he again seemed more amazed that we thought the price too high.

I noticed this woman selling puffy bread and took a photo inspired by another tourist taking a photo.

Later the other tourist told me the woman wasn’t there to sell bread, but to “sell photos” and we should have paid. My problem was that I rarely had small rupee notes. The ATMs give 500 rupee notes, so it was hard to tip everyone on earth or even give to beggars that I felt sorry for. Sandeep’s rule of giving was to give to people he thought really needed it: the very old women or people severely crippled. I once saw him give some coins to a beggar woman and asked how he decided and how much he gave to give me an idea how much to give. His answer, “I am poor so I gave only two rupees.” Well we aren’t poor and we gave nothing so what does that say? The Indian culture is certainly much more accepting of begging; it’s just hard to know who really needs it, especially after seeing Slumdog Millionaire and warnings from Lonely Planet, so I look for old women and try to give them something.

The largest silver object in the world according to the Guinness Book of World Records.

There were 2 jars and each was made from 14,000 Jaipur silver coins which had been melted into sheets of silver. A wooden mold was made and over that the sheets were beaten and shaped. No shouldering was done. The entire process took two years and both were ready by 1896. The silversmiths also shaped the lid and handles. A circular base with wheels was made for moving the jars and a ladder was made to reach the mouth when filling the jars. Maharaja Sawai Madho Singh II took both jars filled with Gangajal (Ganges water) on his voyage to England to attend the coronation of Edward VII in 1902.

Dimensions:

Weight 345 kg (760 lbs) Height 5’3” Circumference 14’10” Capacity 900 gallons (4091 litres)

We all fit….Linda, red pants, Ruth green pants and Randal blue jeans

Aranmul Mirror

“Among Hindus in Kerala, there is a great reverence attributed to eight objects collectively known as Ashta Mangalyam (eight auspicious objects.) …..While the actual objects differ by occasion, community and location, a regular on the list is a Vaal Kannadi (hand mirror) which is meant to bestow abundance and wealth on the beholder. And the most sought after is a distortion-free Aranmula one.

The uniqueness of the Aranmula mirror is that the reflective surface is not mercury-backed glass but metal. When you place a fingertip on a normal mirror, you see a gap between the front edge of the glass and the image on the reflective backing layer. However, in the Aranmula mirror, the gap does not exist.

The secret of achieving true reflective quality on metal is known only to a set of families in Aranmula, Kerala and this knowledge was inherited as a legacy from their bronze-caster forefathers who moved to Kerala in the 18^th century from present day Tamil Nadu. Legend has it that they were required to create a resplendent crown for the local deity using bell metal. But they failed to create and alloy that would, after polishing, befit the grandeur. A widow from the community dreamt about the exact composition that would make the metal as reflective as a mirror. When it proved true, the community also began to create mirrors.

Each mirror is painstakingly made by hand and, depending on the size, could take about six months to make. The clay used for casting, the higher concentration of tin in the copper-tin alloy and the duration of heating the alloy are but some of the aspects in a process where purification of the metal is of great importance to get a good shine. Even polishing the metal is said to be an elaborate process, done for a few hours each day for about three days.

A round mirror of 5” diameter set in an ornate brass frame costs about 8,000 rupees (about $175 US.) A major component of the cost is labor. But the other factor is considerable wastage in the manufacturing process as the metal plates are almost glass-like in their fragility. Traditionally the demand for the product grew when it was included in the Ashta Managalyam. However, owing to the price, it is now considered a precious and unique artifact.

Aranmula mirrors have now been granted GI (Geographical Indication) status and they are currently manufactured by the Parthsaradhy Handicraft Centre in Aranmula (www.aranmulakannadi.com.)

Culturama February 2011 Spice Jet Airlines

Interestingly, I really didn’t realize this mirror in the Pink Palace complex was special until Linda pointed out the article about it in the airline magazine we had each helped ourselves to. I had focused on the article about the puppet master. However, it is pretty interesting and our stainless steel refrigerator front works the same was as one of the Aranmula mirrors! No space between my finger and the reflection.

The Fort had its own temple and Linda, our guide, and I went inside though it was quite crowded and hard to see what was happening in the chamber in the front of the room. Before going in we had to remove shoes and belts to avoid bringing leather into the temple. Also, unfortunately, no cameras. Randal remained outside in his shoes and held the cameras. At one point the curtain in front of the small chamber was closed and some very loud bells were rung and drums banged while “the gods were eating their meal.” Then there were more bells rung and drums banged encouraging everyone to leave. That’s how I remember it anyway. Around the opening to the chamber were carved and painted huge green banana leaves and bunches of bananas. Quite lovely. Inside was a lot of red something. Not a very accurate description but you can Google Shila Devi Temple to learn more.

There were many different levels and sections within the Fort and we walked up and down and around.

Looks like a scene from the Arabian nights….

The Raja had many wives and each had her own set of rooms and separate entrances so they didn’t have to interact with each other.

Individual rooms for the various wives and members of the harem were built along the perimeter and the center area was where they could meet if they chose to meet. No men were allowed into this area but the Raja could look down on them from his palace. There was also a story the guide told us about the bangles worn by the wives. If they wanted a visit from the Raja they would jingle their arms and the sound was a signal. The women weren’t allowed into the Raja’s palace so that was the way they got his attention. Or something along those lines.

An example of the paintings depicting hunting scenes, but the ones depicting the Karma Sutra were too graphic for me to put on the website. Many of the Karma Sutra painting were covered with white paint.

I told Randal I had no idea how this lock worked but he said our friends Peter and Jane would so I’m including it for them and because it is quite interesting.

As we left the Fort we passed several shops selling copper wares.

Then came lunch…

Then we were off again for a fairly disappointing afternoon. Our first stop the “handicraft demonstration/sales pitch.”

We were to see a demonstration of cloth stamping.

A small square of cloth was stamped with the green paint and then re-stamped with yellow paint.

Some type of powder was added to the water which turned the cloth red but didn’t was off the paint.

This one had been done earlier but you can see how red the cloth turns.

It was pretty interesting and it would have been fun to make one and really learn how it all worked. However the man doing the demo was a grump and just wanted to rush us off to the sales area.

We didn’t bargain and we didn’t buy anything either. It is all just too high pressure. And I still have a beautiful blue shawl I bought in China that I haven’t worn so who needs more.

Next email..the carpet shop, the City Palace and the puppet show.

Ru

Doramac

  I’m jumping around quite a bit in these emails.  The Taj and the Ganges came at the end of our tour, but since I thought those places might be the most interesting to you, that’s where I started.  When we went up north we spent 3 nights in Delhi and then drove up to Jaipur where we visited the Amber Fort, the City Palace (sort of) and the Marharaja Public Library and rode the elephant.  Our tour of the Amber Fort was really quite interesting and our local guide very good.  Here is part one.

Ru

Our morning in Delhi before driving to Jaipur.

Our first hotel in Delhi was a nightmare for Linda and Michael. They had no hot water and were on the ground floor quite close to the noise from the reception desk, the front lobby and the street traffic. Randal and I were upstairs, had hot water, and though the first night was noisy the second was not and we slept pretty well. The second night, Linda and Michael were given a different room but the bed had bugs and they didn’t think a change of mattress would help so at midnight they were given yet another room in a different “sister hotel” but that one was not much better. So after the second night we all checked out and moved to a different hotel recommended by Sandeep. We all thought it was fine though Linda and Michael had to kill a couple of small roaches crawling on the floor. It was much less palatial than it looks; things aren’t maintained very well. But there were no bugs in our room and they brought a breakfast of omelets, toast, jam, butter, tea, coffee and juice to our room. It was all included for about $36 US so we couldn’t very well complain. There was even an extra blanket in the room so we didn’t have to ask and it was pretty quiet. Best of all, the hotel had wifi.  Toilet paper rolls were very odd everywhere.  They were so small they lasted about a half an evening!  We were always asking for toilet paper everywhere we stayed.  And though all of the rooms everywhere had AC, non had heat other than the space heaters we were given. 

Road side scenery….

There was a ton of traffic mixing scenes from today with images from hundreds of years ago.

The camel cart was in line to go through the toll booth.

I have no idea what a camel cart pays for a toll. None of the camels, water buffalo, cattle, horses or goats seemed the least bit fazed by the traffic and blaring horns. Everyone honks all of the time.

Half way to Jaipur we stopped for lunch at one of the “tourist resort restaurants” where the food is more expensive, the service bad and you pay to use the bathroom.  To top it off, in a few hours after eating Michael started to feel really bad, had the chills and spent the entire time in Jaipur sick…possibly from his meal. He actually went to the Jaipur Hospital. Michael, Linda, Sandeep, Sandeep’s friend who was also driving a tour group and whose mom is a doctor, and the hotel manager all went about 8 pm that night. They were back by about 10 pm with medicines and instructions for eating. It is just about impossible to get “bland” food in India because chili and pepper seem to go into everything no matter what. Linda and Randal also had some stomach issues. My stomach needed a good dose of lightly steamed vegetables with no sauce or gravy as I had the opposite problem from too much bread and rice.

Two days in Jaipur……

And then came the elephants..

Several passed our hotel at night walking down the main road. February is the month of weddings and lots of grooms ride to the wedding on dressed up white horses. Maybe in Jaipur they ride on elephants because we heard wedding bands and saw fireworks all three nights.

Our first morning was spent at the Amber Fort where Sandeep arranged for a local guide “provided” by his company which provides drivers for tourists and works with the tour companies like the one we used to arrange our tour. We thought that meant Sandeep’s company paid the guides, but that wasn’t the case. We paid the guide with “tips” and if we bought things at the “handicraft emporiums” they would get some type of commission. Our visit to the Taj Mahal and Rishikesh worked the same way. The sales pitches seem to be included in tours everywhere. We don’t normally take tours, but when we visited Beijing and Tibet both had “shopping stops” included with the tours and actually many tourists seem to like it. Our local guides were all quite good and put up with our somewhat limited attentions spans related to Mughal emperors and Hindu deities and the fact that we never bought anything except one time at the Marble Palace.

I hope the barrel is empty!

Not in a million years could I do this: we passed this couple on our way to the Fort.

“Amber Fort is located at a distance of 11 kilometers from Jaipur and was the old fort of the Kachhwaha clan of Amer, which used to be the capital, till it was moved to Jaipur. The construction of the Amber Fort began in the year 1529 AD and was started by Man Singh I. The exterior of the Fort is not in the least like its interiors. The outside is very imposing and rugged looking whereas the inside is a comforting and warm interior which is influenced by both Hindu and Muslim style of ornamentation. On the walls are paintings depicting various hunting scenes ( and the Karma Sutra) and there is also a lot of work on the walls, which are covered with intricate carving, mosaic and minute mirror work that makes the halls look very majestic and imperial. The fort is built with white marble and red sandstone and looks even more attractive because of the Maota Lake in the foreground.” India Cards postcard booklet

The “rugged outside “of Amber Fort and Maota Lake which is man-made.

Amber Fort was built on one of the mountains overlooking Jaipur: I’ve taken this photo from inside. The city walls go up the sides of the mountains in the distance and you can see guard towers here and there along the walls.

Inside the walls were an administrative building, living areas for the Raja and his wives, a temple, gardens, a dance area, court yards, a small bazaar arcade……

The Mughals were Muslims, but living in Hindu India they mixed Hindu elements into their architecture. Our guide told us that the pink sandstone represents the Hindu aspects and the white marble, the Muslim and that the Amber Fort was one of the first structures to mix the two architectural aesthetics. I believe this building was used for administrative work so non-family members and “the public” were allowed here.

I believe this building was the Raja’s palace.

The walls and ceilings were heavily decorated.

The walls had pieces of glass and jewels inlaid.

What do you see?

This was a relief on one of the pillars. Our guide asked us what we saw other than a flower and a butterfly. I finally saw an elephant’s trunk in the bottom of the flower. A scorpion, a cobra, fish, a cow’s tail and there were images in the butterfly too, but I can’t remember.

The garden…maybe once it had flowers…

Our guide listening to a question from me.

We saw tons, literally tons, of sugar cane carried on every kind of vehicle imaginable. Much of it was going to a huge processing plant. But we also saw small family operations and Randal asked Sandeep if we could stop and see one. Always willing to oblige, Sandeep stopped and we had a visit and a taste. Sandeep didn’t have a name for the candy but doing a search I came up with the name Jaggery and the photo matched what we had seen so I think I’m right.

“What is Jaggery?”

“Jaggery has a wonderful mellow sweet natural taste with a hint of sour taste. Jaggery or gur is an unrefined sugar loved in India since ancient times by itself, in its cooking and served in its temples. Gur or jaggery has wonderful taste, texture ranges from golden brown to dark brown in color and may be called the natural gold from heaven. It is dried sugarcane, date palms, sap of coconut or sago palm juice. This raw juice is boiled down in iron pans and it is then formed into blocks. The joy of jaggery is the simple processing process which yields a more natural concentrated sugar with its molasses and crystals and many natural vitamins and minerals intact. The jaggery gains iron from the iron pans heated to 200°C. It contains up to 50% sucrose, up to 20% invert sugars, moisture content of up to 20%, and the remainder made up of other insoluble matter such as ash, proteins and bagasse fibers”

http://www.indianfoodsco.com/Submit/Jaggery.html

Fields of sugar cane and the small “processing operation.”

He fed sugar cane into a machine that extracted the juice. The discarded husks were used as fuel for the fires to heat the syrup.

It starts on its way as sludge.

It then goes into these cheese cloth bags where the liquid drains through the cloth and the sludge stays behind.

The syrup goes into a series of huge pans where it is boiled.

The syrup was put into different pans at different stages.

It then was scooped out of the pan and spread onto the flat surface.

Here it was allowed to cool.

The young daughter was feeding the discarded sugar cane husks into the fireplace that heated the big syrup pans.

Randal went off to look at the equipment powering the juicing machine.

I’m waving him back to come for a taste of the jaggery. It reminded me of a corn flavored Caro syrup; and was very thick, sticky and good.

The family was as fascinated with us as we were with the candy making process.

We passed this man selling jaggery from his truck but couldn’t really stop to buy any.

Sandeep said it was the first time tourists had asked him to stop to see the sugar cane processing. We told him we weren’t quite typical tourists.

Sugar cane on its way to a large processing plant.

From Delhi we drove forever to get to Jaipur in Rajasthan. Jaipur and Pushker were on Linda’s “must see” list. This is the information provided by Nayeem, our tour operator.

“Jaipur, first planned city in India was founded 18 November 1727 by Maharaja Sawai Madhopur. It is also popularly known as the Pink City located in the semi-desert lands of Rajasthan. (Lots of red sandstone walls and structures and pink was for good luck here as orange was in Haridwar.) The city which once had been the capital of the royalty now is the capital of Rajasthan….At present Jaipur is a major business center with all the requisites of a metropolitan city.” We had several places on our list to see though it didn’t quite work out that way. We kept telling Sandeep that we weren’t quite the typical tourists that he may have encountered before. And it was in Rajasthan that we learned India Airtel purchased in Cochin, Kerala doesn’t necessarily work in Jaipur, Rajasthan, though it sort of did in Delhi. And Michael got sick and Randal didn’t really want to camel riding…. But we did see a bit of Jaipur and had a pretty good two days.

We did see the big beautiful Amer Fort.

Amer Fort where did had a full mornings tour with our first local guide. More about it in another email.

And we did have a short, late afternoon elephant ride around the block. It was supposed to have been a long ride up to the Amer Fort but two Korean tourists had gotten hurt that morning falling off their elephant which had gotten into a fight with another elephant so no ride for us. We should have skipped it altogether but it was part of the package and already paid for. Of course, then we had to tip the mahout (elephant jockey) and pay for some photos a young man had taken and was desperate for us to buy…. It was a very tall elephant and I didn’t trust the seat would really stay on so I was glad to pay and get off.

Day two in Rajasthan was to be a long drive to Pushkar, one of the oldest cities in India located on Lake Pushkar. There, after seeing several temples we could , for about $25, take a late afternoon camel ride in the desert. (It cost $50 to ride a horse around Central Park in New York City several years ago so the camels were sort of a bargain.) After the camel ride it would have been a 6 hour drive back to Jaipur. Michael was still sick so never even started the trip. Randal said right away that he wasn’t going camel riding so I was a bit less enthused about the whole thing. But Linda really wanted to go so I would have gone camel riding with her. As it turned out, about 40 minutes into the long drive to Pushkar, Sandeep suggested that we turn back. He knew the temples weren’t the main attraction for us, but rather the camel ride in the desert. Though very unusual in late February, it had stormed and hailed the night before and the weather that morning was dreary and overcast. Sandeep was afraid that the camel ride would be rained out so then what was the point of going? He suggested we turn back and spend the day in Jaipur. We all agreed though we really weren’t sure what we would do. It was cold and our clothes weren’t keeping us at all warm and my sciatic leg was starting to act up. Our first stop turned out to be an empty mall. Our second stop was a McDonald’s for coffee. Malls and McDonalds….we needed a break from temples and ruins.

Where’s the beef?

I took this one photo and then the staff told me, No Photos! No beef either. Beef isn’t eaten by Hindus though they do use water buffalo milk to drink and make yogurt. Water buffalo work pulling wagons and plows so oddly there is seems to be a distinction between buffalo and cows. I don’t know if cow milk is used. Sandeep’s family kept water buffalo for milk.

After coffee at McDonalds we looked for Linda’s printer cartridges on a street filled with electronics (no luck) and then had a frustrating visit to an Airtel service center trying to add internet time to our SIM card (no luck since we were in Rajasthan and not Kerala where we had bought the original SIM card.) Then it was time for lunch at the Rainbow Restaurant where we had eaten lunch the day before. Sandeep tried to suggest restaurants where bottled water was used for cooking and where tourists could eat, usually without getting sick. It was relatively cheap, the service was good and the bathroom was clean.

All vegetarian with naan bread, veggies, lentils, yogurt and for desert, the white ball which resembled bread soaked in some type of mild sweet liquid. After all of the hot spices it’s nice to have something sweet. Randal and I shared this and there was food left over. It cost about 240 rupees plus the tax and service charges was about $8 US. Food was cheaper in China and Malaysia. Food was starchy, spicy, sauced, plentiful, and filling and sometimes after a big lunch and a long all day drive we would just have some ice cream at the hotel restaurants for dinner. Ice cream in India is quite good with lots of flavor choices.

After lunch Randal went off for a shave and haircut at the same place Sandeep had gone the day before. Randal paid more but that was the case just about everywhere for everything and not just in India. Sandeep drove Linda and me to the main street bazaar across from the Hawa Mahal. That area is very touristy so we opted for a side street instead of the main road shops. Sandeep asked if we would take a tuk tuk back since it was his turn to have stomach issues and he felt bad. We said of course and off we went.

The Hawal Mahal shows why the city is called the Pink City. The pink walls show up around most of the older part of Jaipur. “The Hawa Mahal which adjoins the famous City Palace wall, was built in 1799 by Maharaja Sawai Pratap Singh and has now become one of the landmarks of Jaipur. The palace is shaped like a pyramid and is a five-storied building with a number of small windows and screens with arched roofs. There is intricate carving in the front and much attention has been paid to even minute details. Its purpose was simply to allow the royal women a view of ceremonial processions while seated behind small windows, allowing them to look out without themselves being seen.” (from the back of a post card.) Hawkers across the road tried to entice us to climb up in their building to take photos and hawkers at the Hawal Mahal sold tickets to go inside to take photos. We took a pass on both counts. Nothing is free in India. I guess it’s really that way all over: we paid in Tibet and paid additionally to take photos. Here, at least, photos were included in the price of admission but video was extra.

Some women out shopping.

The side street we picked was filled with goods for locals rather than souvenirs and we were pretty much ignored as we walked along. We did stop to buy some postcards and then I bought the small wood block that I mentioned in the Taj email.

A very trustworthy future certified accountant.

I bought the small bas relief block from this young man. He had some that were marked 350 rupee or 700 rupee. I asked if he had any for 100 rupee. He showed me a box with smaller wood blocks. I picked one out and asked, “how much?” “50 Rupee,” he answered. I had implied that I would pay 100 rupees but since the real price was 50 rupees that’s what he charged me. His English was excellent and he was very polite and helpful. He told us that he is 16, in his 11^th year of school and he would be a certified accountant when he finished his last year of school.

Our next stop was the public library just across the road. After crossing, Linda and I were immediately taken in hand by a gentleman who asked what we were looking for. Since accepting help is a prelude to paying a tip, we tried to walk away saying we knew where the library was. We had seen the sign from across the road. But he insisted that we were wrong and we should follow him into a slightly creepy stairwell around the corner from the library sign we had seen. In this instance, his advice did prove helpful. He led us upstairs and into the library and introduced us to the librarian explaining, in Hindustani , that I was a librarian from the US which somehow I had told him in the process of ignoring his help. Then he sort of disappeared and Linda and I were given a tour of the library.

Shellia Sherma, Librarian at the Maharaja Public Library.

The library was started from the personal collection of books the Maharaja donated in 1866. There were several men reading in the room which was nice to see.

The card catalog still all written by had!

My first library job, after Ellen taught me how, was to create the cards for the children’s books at the Roanoke County Public Library. I had to choose the Dewey number, the subject heading, and the main entry way before key word searching existed. I did hand write cards but then Margaret, Helen, Joyce or Jean typed them up and filed them into the drawers. My job was to check to see if they had been filed in the correct place, which they almost always were, pull out the rod and “drop the cards” where they would remain until the book was withdrawn. The worst thing was pulling out the rod and then dropping the drawer, only once, and then having to re-file all of the cards. Sometimes people would take out more than one drawer and put them back in the wrong place. Sometimes, rather than write down the information, they would rip out the whole card and ask us for help to find the book! I’m going to guess and say the red check on this card was from an inventory.

Shellia had asked my salary and Linda was explaining that the cost of living in the US was much higher than in India. It certainly didn’t seem a great fortune to me, though it was good pay with good benefits so I definitely couldn’t complain. Night and weekend hours, not so great. Next we went to Technical Services where the books are processed before being placed on the shelves. There we met Santosh Tanwer and Ranfina Chodary who opened the children’s room for us to see and then sang the Indian National Anthem at Linda’s request.

The Children’s Room

Santosh and Ranfina serenade Linda.

They had very sweet voices. When we said our good-byes it was like leaving friends! It was another instance of feeling frustrated that I couldn’t speak the local language and I certainly appreciated all three ladies being able to communicate with us in English. English is not the first language in India as it was in Singapore. However, small boys wanting to sell postcards or be your guide speak English quite well. Hopefully I have written their names correctly.

We left the library and our “guide” was still waiting. We thanked him but firmly said good-bye and walked away to continue looking at the shops along the road.

Bags with colored chalk used to decorate the elephants.

Painted elephant.

Elephants are used in the tourist trade and during wedding celebrations, many of which take place in February. We saw lots of them being ridding down the main road of Jaipur. It is a controversial subject since the elephants aren’t originally from Jaipur and the summer weather is said to be too warm for them as it the hot road pavement. Many of the elephants have been rescued from worse situations and this is one way to save them. This one seemed happy enough and lived around the corner from our elephant ride. I just can’t imagine letting little children play around big elephants!

We stopped at a shawl shop and Linda negotiated for some to take home as gifts. At this point I started to get achy and feel bad so it was time to take a tuk tuk back to the hotel. Sandeep told us it should cost about 30 rupee but when we asked were offered a fare of 100 rupees. We said no. A bicycle rickshaw said the same thing. Finally another came along and said he would do it for 30 rupee. We got in and because it was a long way decided to give him a 20 rupee tip. He would get 50 rupee rather than the agreed upon 30. Problem was he meant 30 rupee per person! We had insisted that it was one price for both of us when speaking with the first two men but perhaps this man didn’t hear. He got his 50 rupees and that was that. I went in, wrapped up and took a nap. Dinner that night was soup and some ice cream and by morning I felt better.

It was really a fun afternoon shopping with the locals rather than at the “tourist emporiums” that are always included in most tour packages.