March 6-7, 2016

March 6-7, 2016

Our organized tour is basically over.  Now we start the multi-day journey back home.  From Jaipur it is a 155-mile drive to New Delhi.  Even with a toll road it is agonizingly slow.   The highway disappears inside big towns and there is all kinds of non-motorized traffic.  We stop at a roadside diner for lunch.  We have the Thali plate which is a sample of several different vegetarian dishes.  Yummy!

We drop off one couple at the Delhi airport and the rest of us head to a hotel restaurant for a buffet dinner.  Then it is back to the airport for our 1:35 am flight.  Because we are heading into the wind it is a bit longer.  And the flight is packed.  I guess more people want to leave India than go.  We can relate.  India was a cool experience but the dirt and pollution are taking a toll.  All of us have scratchy throats and sniffles.  We are ready for some fresh Arizona air.

We get into JFK early, and since we carried-on and are ahead of the rush, we make it through Customs in record time.  We are facing a very long layover, so we break down and pay the unwarranted ticket change fee to take the earlier flight to Phoenix.  We are saving less than four hours but we still have a long way to go.  Our American flight is a grueling six-hour completely-full flight.  I feel like a sardine.  I think we should have overnighted again in NYC.  I am cursing our decision, but I shouldn’t really complain.  We traveled to the other side of the world.  Less than 100 years ago, this would have been a month long journey.  How easily we lose perspective.  After retrieving our car it is two-hour drive to Tucson.  We are home!

India will be a trip we will long remember.  It is almost the exact opposite of our home in every way.  To Westerners India is an enigma, a land of extreme contrasts, where high-tech lives next door to ancient.  Travel through India is an assault on our senses and our modern sensibility.  It is a kaleidoscope of cultures with colorful, painted Hindus, black burqa-clad Muslims, and Turbaned Sikhs wearing daggers.  Where else can you see tigers, camels, elephants and cobras outside a zoo?

March 5, 2016

March 5, 2016

India is studded with stone forts because like Europe it consisted of a multitude of little kingdoms always fighting among themselves.  With the invasion of Muslims beginning in the 12^th century, culminating with the Mughals, all the forts were enlarged.  Just north of our hotel on a hillside in a narrow valley is the Amber (or Amer) Fort which played an early role in stopping the conquests.  Eventually the local ruler thought it better to join the enemy than die fighting, and this fort became a bastion of the Mughal Empire.

Amber Fort, now a World Heritage site, has a series of long ramps to reach the entrance.  Pretending to be visiting Maharajas (high kings) we sit side-saddle on the back of an elephant and join a procession of dozens of gaily-decorated elephants up to the fort.  While great fun, it feels a little anti-climatic.  Between the driver, the blanket, and where we sit, we can’t really see our own elephant.  The elephants also lumber up the ramp, so we sway left and right in great sweeping movements.

 

We disembark at the soldier’s parade square and walk up a grand staircase to enter the palace.  Allying with the Mughal Invaders apparently was profitable as the interior is regal.  The decorations are mostly Islamic (to appease the conqueror) with Hindu symbolism tossed in.  The most spectacular building is the Mirror Palace that has inlaid glass pieces that make it sparkle.  There is also a courtyard garden that has the same ornamental pond and dance platform we saw yesterday at Fatehpur Sikri.   One of the features of Islamic architecture is the multitude of stone screens.  Behind these screens is where the unveiled women of the harem could watch activities without being seen.  We have the opportunity to look through these screens and see how harem women would have viewed the world.

 

Whenever I tour ancient living spaces, the engineer in me is always asking practical questions (e.g. How do you get water to a hilltop?).  I got this one answered by accident. For a 10 Rupee note (about 15 cents), a guard led us down a secret passage to the king and queen’s bathroom and a water pump.  Like out of an old Tarzan movie, water was raised up here via a servant-powered conveyor of clay pots tied to a rope.  Very cool!
 

Since mining is a big industry in Rajasthan, our factory visit today was to a gem cutter and their jewelry store.  We saw how the gems were cut in ancient times.  I can’t get excited since I have faceted gems myself at the Tucson Gem Show. 
 

Our next stop is in the heart of Jaipur.  When warfare began to wane, a later king of Rajasthan, Jai Singh, moved his home from the Amber Fort here to this planned city and named it after himself.  This walled city is nicknamed the “Pink City” because it was plastered and painted pink for the 1878 state visit of the British Prince of Wales. 
 

The City Palace is still owned by Jai’s descendants.  One side of the compound has its iconic landmark, the Hawa Mahal, or Palace of Winds.  It is a façade of screens that the harem women could use to watch life on the city streets below while safely hidden away.
 

Our tour of the City Palace starts in an outdoor audience hall that has two enormous silver vessels.  They were used by the king to bring Ganges River water to England during a state visit.  We continue to the throne room of the Maharaja.  It looks like out of the movies where the king would have sat on a big pillow to meet visitors.  When the British took over rule of India from the Mughals, they continued the same strategy of supporting dozens of local monarchs.  These puppet rulers lived liked kings making them loyal British subjects.
 

A Textile museum has dozens of royal gowns and ceremonial robes.  Uninteresting except I see that two of the garments are named the Jama (top) and Pajama (bottom).  I didn’t realize I already have drawer full of Indian Maharaja clothes at home.
 

Jai Singh was also an astronomy buff.  He built the Jantar Mantar observatory we saw in Delhi.  That was a prototype for an improved version he constructed here.  This World Heritage Site has dozen of huge instruments including the world's largest stone sundial, accurate to just a few seconds.
 

After a short break at the hotel for lunch, we went for a shopping spree to please the ladies.  Dodging a couple elephants our bus stopped first at a textile factory where block printed fabric is made.  To make patterns an inked wooden die is repeatedly stamped onto the fabric.  We then learned about the chemistry of fixing the dye.

 
Afterwards we were dropped off at a downtown bazaar.  Aimee really wanted to buy fabric and an Indian top but we both found the task too grueling.  Between the constant “bait and switch” and need to bargain constantly, we finally just gave up.  It didn’t help that Aimee almost got gored by a sidewalk cow.  Shopping for women is supposed to be fun, not work.

March 4, 2016

March 4, 2016

Today we journeyed west into the state of Rajasthan.  Watching the scenery from the bus continues to be our major entertainment.  We are heading to the drier desert part of India.  Desert must mean camel as we now see them replacing horses as the major beast of burden.  Rajasthan also must be the brick capital of India.  We pass several huge operations with very tall chimneys belching black smoke.  Like everything in India the bricks are made by hand.  The clay is hand-shaped, stacked to dry and then put in large kilns for baking.  All the transport is done by camel cart.  Stonework seems to be another local industry.  We see slabs of granite and marble for sale, along with decorative carvings of sandstone.  Large fields of grain and oilseed are ready for harvest and being reaped by hand scythe.  Herders are also in abundance with big flocks of sheep, goats and donkeys crossing the road.  And of course, cow patties.  They are stacked everywhere, including the center of large cities.

After some ninety minutes we arrive in the town of Fatehpur Sikri.  This World Heritage Site is a Mughal Ghost Town.  Akbar the Great moved his capital here from Agra.   After spending 14 years building his palaces and center of government, he realized there wasn’t enough water to sustain it, so it was abandoned.

  

We transfer to a tour bus that takes us up a small  rise to the fort complex.  After a brief history we walk around this shell of a city.  Even though it is deserted we can sense it must have been magnificent.  The interior palace contains dozens of buildings and courtyards entirely built out of red sandstone carved with intricate decorations.  There is a giant Parcheesi board in the center of one courtyard.  I really like the ornamental pond with a dance platform in the middle.  Around its periphery, each of the emperor’s wives had a separate home.

After a stop for lunch and another couple hours driving, we pass through a mountain tunnel and end in the city of Jaipur.  Our hotel is on the northeast edge facing a small lake with a view of an island palace, called Jal Mahal.(Water Palace).  The hotel is completely tiled with a stunning green marble flooring, that extends even inside our room.  I guess that is more proof that stone quarrying is a major Rajasthan industry.

We have a couple hours before dinner so we take a stroll into town.  We have to walk single-file dodging cars, motorcycles, and cow droppings so we only go a dozen blocks.  After spotting the remains of Nahargarh Fort (Tiger Fort) on the hill above the city we turn around.   On the way back we visit a fabric store where Aimee can amuse herself.  She is not happy with the quality of the fabric and the high “foreigner” price so we pass on buying anything.

 

In the evening our tour guide takes us to a restaurant on the other side of Jaipur for dinner.  While feasting we are serenaded by two Indian dancing girls, who insist on trying to teach me how to do the Indian Jig.

March 3, 2016

March 3, 2016

Our train ride last night was a couple hours long and surprisingly we were served snacks, a meal and later ice cream.  Aimee and I both thought it was pretty good.  By the time we got our luggage and took the bus to the hotel, it was almost 11pm.
 

Aimee and I go straight to bed because we have another early wakeup call.  We are on the bus at dawn for the short ride to Agra’s main attraction, the Taj Mahal.  From the parking lot we have a long walk to the western entrance and its long security line.  Inside, we pass through a large ceremonial gate to our first glimpse of the Taj.  It is very beautiful but we are greatly disappointed. Three of the four surrounding minarets are covered in scaffolding!  That is one of the uncontrollable vagaries of travel I hate.

We take a group photo and then walk up the long reflecting pool toward the Taj.  While there are not millions of tourists, they are numerous enough to make taking a good photo difficult.  Taj Mahal means “crown of palaces” but it is actually a mausoleum.  When we enter the dimly lit Taj we see the tomb of one of the three wives of the Mughal emperor Shah Jahan.  He loved her so much he built this most beautiful memorial of all time in her memory.
 

The Taj is flanked by a Mosque and a mirror twin.  There are a bunch of Rhesus macaque monkeys running around the exterior.  As I am untying my shoes to enter the mosque, a macaque runs up, grabs a Flip-flop and starts chewing on it.  I can’t stop laughing.  Aimee decides she doesn’t want monkey spit on her shoes so she holds mine while I go inside.

The Taj is constructed of white marble decorated with inlaid gems and semi-precious stones.  To explore this art, we stop at a nearby factory that still practices this craft.  They demonstrate how it is done and then we peruse the showroom.  The tabletops are gorgeous but unfortunately large, heavy and pricey.  And the salesmen, like all in India, are very annoying.  They think if they hound you enough they will wear you down and you will pull out the wallet.  Indians have not learned the art of the soft sell.

From the factory we head back to the hotel for breakfast and then on to Agra Fort.  Agra was the first capital of the Mughal Empire.  It was also where Shah Jahan, builder of the Taj, was imprisoned after his son usurped him.  The fort is made of red sandstone with tall walls and surrounded by a moat.  Inside the vast complex are a couple palaces and a mosque.  The main palace is princely with a courtyard garden and marble walls and like the Taj, inlaid gem decoration.  Seeing how fine the palace is, I am thinking Shah Jahan didn’t have it too bad being imprisoned here.
 

From Agra Fort we went to the home of a local Indian family that runs a Bed and Breakfast in their home.  The family introduces themselves and then serves us a snack of Indian spice tea and Samosas.  A samosa is deep fried dough filled with a spicy mix of potatoes and chickpeas.  It resembles a tiny version of the Cornish pastie.  While we eat we ask the family about Indian home life and then get a tour of the house.  Aimee really likes the experience.

 

March 2, 2016

March 2, 2016

Today was mostly a travel day.  We boarded the bus and drove one hundred miles west to the town of Orchha.   The road we traveled was one lane wide but had two-way traffic.  I am glad I didn't have to drive the bus and dodge the oncoming trucks, cars, motorcycles, cows, and pedestrians.  Every bus and truck has a co-driver who sits on the passenger side to help maneuver through heavy traffic.

The rural scenery brought new people watching opportunities. Indian farm life looks like it hasn't changed in thousands of years.  We see ox-drawn plows, and goat herders. The major occupation of women seems to be collecting dung and shaping it into patties by hand.  We see it stacked for drying everywhere.  Running water is non-existent.  Every little village we pass has a communal well where families gather to bathe, wash dishes and collect water.

Aimee and I continue to be shocked by the amount of trash.  The sides of the road are filled with it.  In general Indians are fastidious about personal cleanliness.  Barbershops abound for men, often outdoors on the street.  The women wear clean colorful saris, lots of jewelry, and sometimes paint themselves with elaborate henna-dye drawings.  Not surprising, Indians invented and coined the word for shampoo.  People sweep their personal area clean, but it seems they just move it into the public space.  We have watched women come out of their house to throw garbage on the street.  There doesn’t seem to be any civic pride.

We had a buffet lunch at an Orchha resort and then drove a few blocks across the Betwa River to the Fort.  Orchha is a small town that used to be the capital of an independent kingdom that was captured by the Mughal empire.  The town was later abandoned.  The sprawling fort contains several palaces.  The newest, Jahangir Mahal was built in the early 17th century by the local ruler for a one-time visit by the Mughal Shah.  This three-story stone structure around a central courtyard is an example of Medieval Mughal architecture.  Since the Mughals were Muslim, the artwork contains mostly geometrical designs with lots of stone latticework.  Aimee and I explore the crumbling structure with its maze of stairs.  Unfortunately I hit my head on a protruding stone and earn a big bruise on my forehead.

Afterwards we walk to a group of huge cenotaphs (memorials) to the local kings.  They are in better shape and have a scenic garden amongst them.  In the late afternoon we board the bus for a half hour ride to the next large town where we catch the train bound for Agra.  Probably not unexpected, it is almost an hour late.  I am glad we have a local guide as managing the trains in India is not as easy as in Europe or Japan. 

March 1, 2016

March 1, 2016

We are on the road again.  Back to the airport for a very short flight to Khajuraho.  As our flight approaches, I see the terrain looks different, drier and less populated.  Small mountains are scattered about.  When we land, we almost think we left India.  It is rural, clean, and almost devoid of people.  What a pleasant respite from the gritty cacophony of city life in India.
 

After a short break at our hotel, we drove around the corner to a park containing a cluster of Hindu temples.  Because this area was off the beaten track, the 1000 year old temples here survived destruction from the waves of Muslim invaders and are now designated a World Heritage Site.  The exterior of the temples are full of well-preserved intricately carved figures covering many aspects of Indian life.  They leave nothing to the imagination.  These sacred temples are famous or rather infamous for the erotic depictions.  But we must remember that Hinduism, and its various offshoots are not centered on idol or god worship like western religions.  They are about the right way to live life.  Hindus have four goals in life, and kama, pleasure in moderation, is one. 

Our guide spends a couple hours with us showing us the highlights.  The architectural style of all the temples is similar, a series of steep domes that resemble a mountain range.  The figures that cover the lower periphery on some of the temples are very well preserved.  They depict Hindus, gods, and court figures in all aspects of life including dancing, battle, and hunting.  The level of detail is exquisite.  Most of the female figures are very sensuous and humorously sometimes depicted in very ordinary human activity, like removing a thorn from the foot.

 

We also drive a few minutes to another cluster of temples that aren’t as well-preserved. These temples are from the Jain sect of Hinduism that arose about the same time as Buddhism.  Jains believe in the sanctity of all life, including plant life.  Thus they are strict vegetarians and practice non-violence.  Some Jains even eschew wearing any clothes.  Thus many of the male figures are nude.

February 29, 2016

February 29, 2016

Last night we got back to the hotel late, so we just had some snacks in our hotel room for dinner.  Our suitcases are full of peanut butter, crackers, chocolate, and granola bars because we didn’t know what the food situation would be like.  We need to start eating some of it up to lighten our load.

We were early to bed last night because we have a 5:00 am wake-up call today. Thirty minutes later we are out the door and the bus takes us back to the Ghats (steps) of the Ganges,  This time a young boy rows us slowly upriver as the sky gets lighter.  Our guide explains that the local ruler allowed other regional kings to build homes along the river so their subjects could pilgrimage here. We disembark at a spot where many Hindus have come to bathe in the holy waters of the Ganges. Nearby is another cremation site with one pyre burning. From this vantage we watch the sun rise over the Ganges in a ball of blazing orange.

Our bus meets us and drives us through Banaras Hindu University to the new Vishwanath Temple. This temple is dedicated to the god Shiva.  In the center of this Hindu temple is the Shiva Linga, a male and female phallic symbolizing fertility and rebirth. A crowd of Hindus are dropping offerings of flowers and milk atop it.

Back at the hotel, we eat a late breakfast while watching the Oscars live on an overhead TV.  It is then back on the bus for the drive to nearby Sarnath.  This site is famous for being the spot where Buddha taught his first sermon.  Our guide gave us a rundown on the life of Prince Siddhartha and how he came to be Buddha, the Enlightened One.  Buddhism never made it big in India but spread forcefully through China and Japan.  The Buddhist Temple on the site is relatively modern but is a major pilgrimage location.

Next door is an archeological museum of the relics found when the British excavated the original temples on the site.  It has lots of ancient Buddha statues but the most famous relic is the 2300 year old Lion Capital of Ashoka that is now the national emblem of India.
 

The girls on the tour all want to shop so our guide took us to a silk factory. After demonstrating traditional weaving techniques, Aimee got a lesson on how to put on a Sari.  It is basically just six yards of colorful fabric that one skillfully wraps around oneself.  It is not easy.

Back at the hotel after a long day, we rested by the pool and had a beer. Our hotel has a park-size garden filled with colorful flowers and is truly an oasis from the dense urban life of India. I learn this used to be the grounds of an old palace. I guess I am living the life of a modern Maharaja.

February 28, 2016

February 28, 2016

With an early wake-up call, Aimee and I are checked out and waiting for our tour bus at 7:30 am. It never arrives because Delhi is hosting a marathon today and the main roads are closed. Improvising we jump into three ancient Hindustan Ambassador Taxis. With our luggage on the open car-top carriers, our convoy sets off for the airport.  It feels like another “Amazing Race” moment.  We dodge traffic successfully only to hit a roadblock a half mile from the hotel.  Luckily a senior traffic cop shows up within minutes and lets us through.  Despite the age of these 50+ year old vehicles, we arrive safely and on time to make our flight to Varanasi.

For the plane ride, I picked up a local English language paper and perused the articles.  It is fascinating to read about the issues facing modern India.  You think the US has troubles, politics in India is magnitudes worse.  Besides the Hindu versus the Muslim minority, they have the caste system and all its constituencies, and the many regions and half dozen languages. The concept of a united India is a modern construct.

Aimee likes the personal ads better.  Arranged marriages are still very common (our Indian-American travel companions even had one).  So the classified section has pages full of match-making ads. Humorously most say they are tall, fair-skinned and beautiful.  The ads are also pretty specific about desired castes and personal attributes.

It is a long drive from the airport to our hotel in Varanasi.  All of us are rapt by the scenery. Lots of sacred cows roam the streets and shockingly feeding on garbage.  We see big piles of cow dung drying ready to be used for fuel. The kaleidoscope of cultures makes for astounding people watching. The extent of poverty is very humbling. Yet, surprisingly, even the poorest women wear brightly colored clothing.

Our touring today starts late this afternoon. We board the bus and head to the banks of the Ganges River.  For Hindus, Varanasi is the nexus of the universe, thus the holiest of Hindu cities. Dying in Varanasi breaks the cycle of life and reincarnation.  We climb down steep stairs and load onto a tiny boat with a putt-putt engine and head upriver.  The western river bank of the Ganges is lined with a series of steep steps (called Ghats).  We see flames in the distance. As we get closer, we learn these are funeral pyres.   There are at least a half dozen burning with two bodies waiting. We watch as one body is placed in the water for its final bath.  The marigold decorations are discarded, the body placed on a concrete platform and wood stacked on top. The pyre is lit with butter fat.  It will burn most of the day before family members can retrieve the ashes. All the while cows are hanging out eating the discarded flowers.

Further upriver we stop for an Aarti ceremony.  We first buy some floating candles from a cute little Indian girl that we release on the Ganges as an offering.  When it gets darker we pull close to shore and watch a group of priests light fires, ring bells, and chant.  Apparently the words are in the ancient Sanskrit tongue of the millennia-old Hindu bible.  This Aarti ritual celebrates light and the removal of darkness.