Jaipur

Friday, November 14 We awoke at 5:40, had breakfast at 6:00, and were on the bus by 7:00 to get to the Amber Fort early to line up for the elephant ride to the top. We still stood on line surrounded by hawkers selling everything under the sun: "cheap, sister", "you are my first sale of day, for you special price", "auntie, for my poor mother" etc., etc. Our 'mahout' ( elephant driver) took us up to the fort on a wonderfully painted elephant - a smoother ride than the camel. I adore elephants with their sad eyes, huge leathery skin and steady plodding ways. I know they were once used as punishment - being crushed by an elephant foot would prove fatal - but they are such faithful steady things. Once at the top we had a very fine tour of the fort which was built from 1600-1700. While only the structure stands one can sense the lushness, imagine the carpet strewn rooms, the lavishly painted walls, the multi-mirrored room which with only a few candles could give the effect of a sunlit day in a very dark space. I had no camera (batteries out) but others took plenty of shots and we've all agreed to share them on line. What was compelling to me was the amount of human labor that was in evidence: to create a new floor, two men were hacking away with simple hoes and three women in brilliant saris were loading up 16" diameter wok-shaped bowls, raising them to their heads and slowly, gracefully hauling away the stone...returning again and again. No rush, just calm acceptance of this. At another location, there were women sweeping the dust from one corner to the next; and at another spot, women were sifting ochre colored dry cement to make sure it had no lumps. I know this is the full employment policy, but when you know that the average income for an Indian is less than us$600/year you feel so spoiled, so rich. My only disappointment in India is the trash... which is everywhere! Some of this can be blamed on plastics and packaged goods, but there seems to be an over whelming amount of trash in every place. Each individual shop keeper or stall owner or family keeps its own doorway swept, and at times they are literally sweeping the dirt to keep other stray material away, but that just moves it to the general area where it seems to accumulate. We are told that trash is swept away often, but when one sees cows and pigs grazing and chewing on cardboard and plastic you worry about the internal organs of these beasts. And waste bins are totally non-existent - be it at monuments, on streets, at shops. Maybe they would be stolen or misused but we 'green' Americans, taught not to throw trash anywhere, have our pockets laden with used tissues, wipes and plastic bottles... looking for a place to put them. But of all the problems which India faces: cholera, polio, malaria, illiteracy, job creation, infanticide, homelessness, perhaps trash collection is lower on the list. Once we had completed our tour, and taken a jeep down from the fort to our waiting bus, we went off to the Channi Rug and Fabric store where, in the calm of no hawkers, amidst beautiful fabrics and silks, I had myself measured (like in Hong Kong) for three Kamese: paisley silk, black brocade and shantung-like blue silk, and some pants. It is always awkward to stand there being measured in every part of your body while standing among the shoppers, and again like in Hong Kong the measurer and the recorder of data are speaking in Hindi, but they promise that by tomorrow morning garments will be delivered to our Oberoi Hotel. With that dent made in my shopping budget I returned to the beautiful hotel to 'chill' while others continued to various jewelry stores. This hotel may be my favorite so far, set amidst beautiful gardens with swimming pools, and clusters of units scattered throughout. One is truly in an oasis, and one can have a real sense of guilt when you realize that one night in such a luxurious site is equivalent to a year's earnings for those outside the gates. Each of the people on the staff is proud of their position. Oberoi provides a training program throughout India which is considered to be top rate. If one does well, one moves up the ranks of Oberoi and is sent to one of their many locations throughout the country. A fine opportunity for both men and women. In the evening Doranne provided a lecture on the pantheon of 300,000 gods which have a place in India. The main ones I'm beginning to recognize in painting and sculpture, but there are an incredible amount and each has its own vehicle of transportation, its own rituals, characteristics and purposes. We then learned about the various religions and customs which guide this country. My concern is that, like in old Greece, one can always use the gods to rationalize one's life and this belief that 'all is meant to be' could hold back a country that needs to move into the next century. It is a mixed blessing to have a strong religious faith: it provides one an explanation, a source of calm, an understanding of life, but were I living in a hovel with nothing and with no running water, I would hope that my children could improve their lot, and I'm not sure God will get them there.

Saturday November 15 -

Luggage out at 8:00 a.m., on the bus by 9:00, for a four hour bus ride through the countryside to a small town (name not remembered) where we stayed at our slightly less luxurious hotel - The Bagh in Bharatpur. But compared to the world outside our gate, we were living in a palace. The discrepancy is frightening, and as each worker left the compound they were being searched, and as one entered the compound all cars were examined with a mirror under the car looking for dangerous explosives. We are truly in a cocoon. This site is an old orchard (Bagh means orchard and this one had guava trees)which belonged to the Maharajah of Bharatpur who entertained dignitaries who came to hunt the birds at the reservoir he had constructed for the purpose of luring the birds there. The Bagh is now owned by Raj Singh the nephew of the former Maharaja and the orchard was opened three years ago as a hotel. Our rooms have bars on the window, and through them one hears pigs, goats and roosters and much chatter by those living in less elegant settings just on the other side of the wall. A few of the tour members went on a walking tour of the village (Pakka Bagh) to see India up close, but I feel too much like a voyeur peeking into the world of this relatively prosperous agricultural village... and it just seemed wrong...so I stayed at the hotel and read. I don't like to think of people on display for the tourists, no matter how worthy it may be for our knowledge. Doranne, our knowledge-leader, has spent years living in a small village in the 'belly button' of India, living with rats, snakes etc., while working on her dissertation in anthropology. She did this over 30 years ago with her husband, an archaeologist. The world she lived in is described beautifully in various articles she has written. She understands India, but doesn't gloss it over or explain things through rose-colored glasses. She obviously loves this country and its people but is clear about its problems as well. She has been a great resource on this trip and we turn to her often to explain the unexplainable.

After lunch we were loaded back on the bus for a visit to another World Heritage site - Keoladeo Ghana National Park., the bird sanctuary which used to be the hunting grounds for the Maharajah. We hopped onto two-person bicycle rickshaws and with our wireless headsets on our heads, we were led by a local ornithologist into the mango groves to see the birds: painted storks, kingfishers, anhinga, ibis, owls, cormorants, herons, and beasts like antelope. There are over 200 known pythons in the park, and luckily we saw none of them. It was an amazing oasis of calm and beauty amidst dung smoke and poverty. Our 'pedalist' has done this for eleven years, his legs were pure steel. He knew where all birds could be seen, where they nested and he spoke just enough English to explain what we were seeing. It was a lovely way to end our bus-filled day as all the pedalists raced each other at the end of our tour. They behaved not that differently from drivers on the road, making a one-lane path seem like a super highway as they rang bells, passed on the left or right and dared each other to give way.

After a rest at the hotel, and dinner in the dining room, there was a simple performance of dance by locals and off to bed for another bus ride.