On our way to Jaipur from the Taj, we stopped at a the Bharatpur Bird Sanctuary where we saw a number of beautiful kingfishers, peacocks, storks, and spoonbills among others. The land was bought by the Maharaja Bharatpur in the early 19th century, declared a national park in 1982, and a World Heritage site in 1985. Unfortunately, due to decreasing annual rains during the monsoons, the actual "wet" part of the wetlands and marshes now spans only a fraction of what it used to, so many migratory birds are either moving somewhere else, or decreasing in number due to scarcity of survival space. It was nevertheless a great opportunity to feel like a geeky camera-carrying eco-tourist, but instead of wearing a goofy hat, I sported a bandana that most bandits would be proud of.
We arrived in Jaipur soon thereafter, to first meet our host parents who we are to stay with for the duration of this month of classes in the University of Rajasthan. When I discovered that the house-father of Tom Abel and I is a retired a colonel in the Indian Army, I became slightly nervous. Was I to shave my face and hair? Will there be strict rules and curfews, including random pushup workouts for wrongdoings? I had no idea, but was pleasantly welcomed by a kind man who has been retired since '87. He lives in a mansion of a house in North Jaipur, along with his wife, daughter, two sister-in-laws, brother-in-law, two housekeepers, and tintin (the white alaskan dog, who looks much like "snowy" on the show "tintin"). I honestly get pampered with hot breakfasts in the morning (omelette, toast, and chai), packed lunches, awesome dinners, internet in-home, laundry service, and an interesting family to hang out with. Two women in the house are professors at the University of Rajasthan, and there is a really intelligent 17-year old who is currently writing her 10th standard plus two (grade 12) exams.
The courses I'm enrolled in are extentions of the last module (in Mysore), but are each independent in nature. My courses include Indian Philosophy, Politics, Economy, Public Administration, Environment, and I'm auditing Hindi. They have been going well, but the days are long, with 6 hours of class per day. I feel like I'm back in grade school with my packed lunch, backpack, and cheap notebook.
Last weekend, my friend Luke visited me from Delhi. He came with his friend Brent, and along with Tom and John, we rented a taxi to explore Jaipur. We first went to Amber Fort and Jaighar Fort, situated north of the city. We had so much fun in these forts because they were so big. Unlike many other such structures, the construction was so asymmetrical that there was a seemingly unending amount or doors and passageways like portals to unpredictable destinations. We saw the tallest tower with a bold flag blowing in the wind, and were determined to make it there eventually, so that was our unofficial goal to our wanderings. When we reached it, there was a massive lock on the door. However, on the southern edge of Jaighar Fort, there lies the largest cannon on wheels in the world, with a range of 22 kilometres and weighing thousands of metric tonnes. They call it Jaivan and it has only been tested once. We went to the "pink city" later, which is a walled portion of Jaipur where every building is painted pink (after fading, it is really all red), which is supposed to be a color of welcome. They re-painted it pink to welcome the Prince of Wales in 1876, and again at the event of the visit of President Bill Clinton. We checked out an ancient astrological observatory called Jantar Mantar, and I saw Hawa Mahal later with Tom, which is a large wall made for the "ladies of the court" to observe the city's events without being observed themselves. Also pink.
The next day, Luke and Brent and I hiked up to the Nahaghar Fort, which offers a breathtaking panoramic of Jaipur city, as well as a switch-back road up and a sketchy hike down. Tom and I might visit them in Delhi soon.
On Thursday, our big group took a night train to Jaisalmer, which is where we are right now. It is on the outskirts of the Thar Desert, that is, the Great Indian Desert. The Fort of Jaisalmer is situated on the highest point of the city, and is one of the only living forts still existant- about 25% of the city still lives in the Fort itself. This place is alive with turbans and brightly colored garments worn by the locals, as well as beautiful instruments like a violin-like instrument played with a bow that resounds like a tunnel. We checked out a nearby lake, which is filled with ghats and a few personal collections of heritage that have been turned into museums. There are also Havelis in the city itself, which were basically beautifully built multi-level houses owned by rich business men. Each has a welcoming room which was used to serve opium to newly arrived guests (apparently the first thing to offer guests!). The bed frames in the living quarters were made of pure silver, and the women's powder room was stocked with expensive jewellery. The most exciting part was the incredible view of the Fort at sunset from the top of the Havelis.
One of the most anticipated items of our itinerary happened yesterday, which was a camel ride amid the Thar Desert. We piled in jeeps and drove west towards Pakistan for about an hour (we were apparently around 40 kilometres from the border. yikes!), largely offroading until we got to where about 30 colorfully dressed camels were patiently waiting in the sand. It wasn't my first time riding these gentle beasts, but it was my first time riding them in massive, smooth, gleaming sand dunes! It was like all the postcards and movies but brought to life in real time. The heat wasn't too bad because we rode from about 4 until 6:30 at night or so. One of the camels kept sending off mating calls (they were all male by the way, so I assume this was the dominant male) where he would bellow a deep rumble from deep inside his diaphragm, and then his massive tongue would protrude out the left side of his mouth, and blow up like a balloon, adding a unique auditory element to the call. It was grotesque to watch, but fascinating to listen to, and we joked about what would happen with all these males in the event of a wild female camel approaching from the distance (the consensus was that we would all die from falling off our running camels as they chased her through the desert). We watched the sunset over the dunes as we drank chai and ate snacks. Dinner was rice and dahl, and was followed by a performance of local dancers and singers, playing the harmonia, drum, and hand-held wooden slabs that reminded me of when musicians play the spoons. That, coupled with firelight and thousands of stars made the night romantic, but I'm sure the romance was taken once we started singing english tunes like "in the jungle" and "summer of '69" at the top of our badly tuned lungs.
Well, I'm off to see the Maharaja's palace here in Jaisalmer Fort, more to come...
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
From the Ganga to the Taj!!
Since Pondicherry, it's been non-stop travel and excitement. We got on a 40 hour train from Chennai to Benares (Varanasi), which is Shiva's city. It is situated on the bank of the holy river of Ganga (the Ganges), and ghats (steps leading into the river) line the entirety of the west bank of the river. What an incredible yet bizarre place to be. There are two "burning ghats" in the city which is the location of public cremation ceremonies that occur 24-7, and have been for around 5000 years continuously! Apparantly the flame beneath one of the temples from which they light a torch to then light the bodies has been ever-burning for hundreds of years. I observed how a dead body wrapped in white cloth would be brought to the river in a procession held by 4 men, dipped in the Ganga, and then laid on a pre-stacked wood pile. Spices, sandalwood powder, flowers, and scents would be sprinkled on the body before lighting the fire. The oldest family member of the deceased would wield the fire stick (would tend to the fire and especially the body in case any body parts would detach and roll away - it is common with heads - so that everything is properly burned). However, though I observed slight natural mourning, grief was not present in any of the family members present. In fact, there is a 10 - 14 day celebration of the life of the individual after the cremation. A Catholic monk from San Fransisco named Robert explained to me that Hindus really understand that the opposite of death is not life, but birth. Thus, as birth is a part of life, so it death, and it is silly to an Indian to grieve for too long. Other than the ghats, there were plenty of neat tiny roads around old Varanasi which I grew to love, some great bakeries, and music shops where I took a 2 hour tabla lesson and 1 hour sitar lesson. I also got to watch Pujas (holy men) do a little dance near the ghats in the evening as they ceremonially played with fire and smoke, as well as watch a community cricket match on a platform near the river. Also, taking boats on the Ganges early in the morning to watch the sunrise and the pilgrims bathing (with clothes on) from the ghats was a memorable experience.
We visited Saranath, which in an area outside of Varanasi where Buddha was said to have given his first sermon under a certain tree. We visited this exact site, and were surprised to discover that though the same tree had died thousands of years ago, seedlings from the original tree have been continually planted in the same site. In other words, the tree that we visited is a great great great grandfather of the original tree (give or take a few greats)! Aside from that, there were tibetan, chinese, indian buddhist temples within a short walk away, each differing in style of building and the specific figurines that were chosen to share the worship stage along with Buddha. There was also an 80-foot high ancient stupa. A stupa is a solid semi-sherical clump of brick that is otherwise astonishingly void of form. It was the first site of worship for Buddhists who didn't consider Buddha one to be worshipped (Buddha never asked for such treatment). Rather it was anti-figurative to symbolize an earnest search for truth instead of worshipping a deity, which was the custom of Hinduism at the time. I left my bag in the tibetan temple and went back to get it an hour later, and they were very kind to give it back.
A train took us from Varanasi to Jhansi, where we visited a palace nearby, in which I dressed in my best green and gold silk tunic. There was a great tour of it, along with a nice little touristy village and a river where the monkeys almost attacked us. Basically I was taking photos when one glared his teeth (which, if it has ever happened to you, you know that it scares the bageebees out of you) and followed us a little. Later, we had dinner at the palace (I know, it sounds hot) where a little ensemble of a harmonia (like an accordian) and tablas were accompanying a transvesdite dancer. What!?, you may ask. Well, this person was dressed like a lady, and was bellydancing, but had a veil over his face the whole time. Except, his belly was straight, not curved like a woman's, and one time he lifted his veil and smiled at one of the girls. She gives testimony to the fact that the dancer was male, and I must say it was more than slightly uncomfortable to watch the awesome moves he was making on that dance floor.
We took a bus to a series of temples called Kujaraho. These are unique in India because they are the only temples that display explicit sexual stances and activity alongside all the religious deities and depictions of the ancient texts that are commonplace (Ramanyana and Mahabharatra). Most of the temples were Shiva temples, though there were carvings of Parvati, Vishnu, Brahman, and Ganesh. When I say Shiva temple, I mean it had a shiva lingam inside the central chamber, which is incidently also supposed to be a phallic symbol (perhaps the association with sexual carvings lies therein). My overall thought of the temples was that only about 5% of the carvings were sexual in nature, yet because it is the only one, all the postcards hone in on these like the other 95% don't exist. One interpretation I offer is that this is an example of amplification of an obscure topic in the name of tourism and capital gain. Or simply an obsession of sex in a sexually repressive and perhaps deprived culture. Or both.
On the way to Agra, we came across a traffic jam that lasted 2 hours, and that had started 5 hours before we got there. We were in Rajasthan, and apparantly an accident had occured where the family members of the victims barricaded the street demanding immediate action against the perpetrator (perhaps the driver was drunk?). This tells me that Rajasthan's people have a strong social will to them, and also that their provincial judicial system may not be up to par. Anyways, there were litterally 200 locals surrounding our bus for hours, beggining with kind and excited conversations (in which I left the bus and talked with them outside) but ended in opening our windows and asking for things, as well as actually harrassing some of the girls on our trip. I switched seats with a friend of mine so that I was on window side, and the next time they opened the curtain, they saw my face, and the look on their face of astonishment/surprise was pretty hilarious. Unfortunately I was too upset to enjoy the situation, as I was yelling things in Hindi and English that expressed my frustration. Eventually, flowers, garbage, and even little pebbles were being thrown in through the windows (they were really hard to keep closed with no locking device). I was quite happy to start driving away.
But we made it to Agra!!! Thank goodness because it was unbelievable. Almost everything I've seen up to date has not fully reached my expectations (if I were to be honest with myself) compared to the hype that is involved. However, the hype attached with the Taj Mahal is world-wide and the great expectations I entered with were met with a magnificent marble structure at the height of the potential of things made by man. Maybe it is too high an appraisal, but I was taken aback by its beauty. In other perspectives, it is also a symbol of a misuse of wealth because it was made by the sweat of hard working poor people, in a land where the poverty was rampid. This could be viewed as a good provider of jobs, or as an exploitation of human capital. To add insult to injury, in many cases it was this grandeous manner in which the rich lived that kept the poor in their poverty. Of course, there can be an infinite perspective on all things, so I give only a few. Alas, instead of the overused expression, "You have to see it to believe it", I say, "You have to see it to perceive it".
We visited Saranath, which in an area outside of Varanasi where Buddha was said to have given his first sermon under a certain tree. We visited this exact site, and were surprised to discover that though the same tree had died thousands of years ago, seedlings from the original tree have been continually planted in the same site. In other words, the tree that we visited is a great great great grandfather of the original tree (give or take a few greats)! Aside from that, there were tibetan, chinese, indian buddhist temples within a short walk away, each differing in style of building and the specific figurines that were chosen to share the worship stage along with Buddha. There was also an 80-foot high ancient stupa. A stupa is a solid semi-sherical clump of brick that is otherwise astonishingly void of form. It was the first site of worship for Buddhists who didn't consider Buddha one to be worshipped (Buddha never asked for such treatment). Rather it was anti-figurative to symbolize an earnest search for truth instead of worshipping a deity, which was the custom of Hinduism at the time. I left my bag in the tibetan temple and went back to get it an hour later, and they were very kind to give it back.
A train took us from Varanasi to Jhansi, where we visited a palace nearby, in which I dressed in my best green and gold silk tunic. There was a great tour of it, along with a nice little touristy village and a river where the monkeys almost attacked us. Basically I was taking photos when one glared his teeth (which, if it has ever happened to you, you know that it scares the bageebees out of you) and followed us a little. Later, we had dinner at the palace (I know, it sounds hot) where a little ensemble of a harmonia (like an accordian) and tablas were accompanying a transvesdite dancer. What!?, you may ask. Well, this person was dressed like a lady, and was bellydancing, but had a veil over his face the whole time. Except, his belly was straight, not curved like a woman's, and one time he lifted his veil and smiled at one of the girls. She gives testimony to the fact that the dancer was male, and I must say it was more than slightly uncomfortable to watch the awesome moves he was making on that dance floor.
We took a bus to a series of temples called Kujaraho. These are unique in India because they are the only temples that display explicit sexual stances and activity alongside all the religious deities and depictions of the ancient texts that are commonplace (Ramanyana and Mahabharatra). Most of the temples were Shiva temples, though there were carvings of Parvati, Vishnu, Brahman, and Ganesh. When I say Shiva temple, I mean it had a shiva lingam inside the central chamber, which is incidently also supposed to be a phallic symbol (perhaps the association with sexual carvings lies therein). My overall thought of the temples was that only about 5% of the carvings were sexual in nature, yet because it is the only one, all the postcards hone in on these like the other 95% don't exist. One interpretation I offer is that this is an example of amplification of an obscure topic in the name of tourism and capital gain. Or simply an obsession of sex in a sexually repressive and perhaps deprived culture. Or both.
On the way to Agra, we came across a traffic jam that lasted 2 hours, and that had started 5 hours before we got there. We were in Rajasthan, and apparantly an accident had occured where the family members of the victims barricaded the street demanding immediate action against the perpetrator (perhaps the driver was drunk?). This tells me that Rajasthan's people have a strong social will to them, and also that their provincial judicial system may not be up to par. Anyways, there were litterally 200 locals surrounding our bus for hours, beggining with kind and excited conversations (in which I left the bus and talked with them outside) but ended in opening our windows and asking for things, as well as actually harrassing some of the girls on our trip. I switched seats with a friend of mine so that I was on window side, and the next time they opened the curtain, they saw my face, and the look on their face of astonishment/surprise was pretty hilarious. Unfortunately I was too upset to enjoy the situation, as I was yelling things in Hindi and English that expressed my frustration. Eventually, flowers, garbage, and even little pebbles were being thrown in through the windows (they were really hard to keep closed with no locking device). I was quite happy to start driving away.
But we made it to Agra!!! Thank goodness because it was unbelievable. Almost everything I've seen up to date has not fully reached my expectations (if I were to be honest with myself) compared to the hype that is involved. However, the hype attached with the Taj Mahal is world-wide and the great expectations I entered with were met with a magnificent marble structure at the height of the potential of things made by man. Maybe it is too high an appraisal, but I was taken aback by its beauty. In other perspectives, it is also a symbol of a misuse of wealth because it was made by the sweat of hard working poor people, in a land where the poverty was rampid. This could be viewed as a good provider of jobs, or as an exploitation of human capital. To add insult to injury, in many cases it was this grandeous manner in which the rich lived that kept the poor in their poverty. Of course, there can be an infinite perspective on all things, so I give only a few. Alas, instead of the overused expression, "You have to see it to believe it", I say, "You have to see it to perceive it".
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