The India Chronicles 2000-2001

Jodhpur Fort

I imagine everyone is right in the thick of Christmas shopping, or at least procrastinating about it. That is one of the pluses of travelling at this time of year: we avoid all the Christmas hassle, but we do miss the parties.

On the morning we left Jaisalmer more than a week ago, I made one more attempt to read my emails. The young man who runs the Internet shop where I had spent quite a bit of time writing the last Episode was most helpful, but per usual, his connection was not working. When he heard I was leaving that morning, he asked me to sit down, thanked me for being such a good customer and insisted I accept a small gift. He gave me a double charm of a Ganesh, the elephant God for good luck and Laksmi, for good fortune. I had no idea I had made such an impression, but of course I wished him success in his business.

Once again, we piled on a bus headed this time for Jodhpur, a 6 hour ride away. Not too far out of Jaisalmer, we passed a two cart camel caravan, plodding down the road. We had passed this same caravan on the road when we were heading for Jaisalmer 3 days before. I'm not sure who they were or how far they were travelling, but the camel carts were covered on 3 sides and the roof with fabric for sun protection and were being driven by young Westerners, with no evidence of Indian guides. They would probably make Jaisalmer that day and except for travelling on a busy paved road, would be experiencing India just like the Gypsies. Just a bit further, we passed 2 more Westerners on bicycles, each towing a small trailer filled with their gear. It certainly is not common to see bicycle tourists in this part of the world. The roads are almost all narrow, two laned highways, paved unevenly and crowded wi th all sorts of vehicles plus animals wandering across at random. Not my idea of a good trip. The bus is much safer, and that is saying something.

For one of the first times, we were unable to get a room in our first choice of a Guest House in Jodhpur. Instead, the owners sent us the Raman Guesthouse, a newer business run by a brother-in-law. We got a room there and were well taken care of for the next few days. Jodhpur's claim to fame, aside from the fact that Jodhpur pants take their name from this town, is the massive fort, Meherangarh, atop a rocky cliff in the middle of the town. We took a rickshaw from our Guesthouse into the central part of the city and up the steep winding road leading to the first of seven gates leading to the fort. Unlike Jaisalmer, this fort is not inhabited, it is run by the current maharaja of Jodhpur as a museum. We spent quite a bit of time just walking around the ramparts admiring the view of the city below and of the houses painted blue, partly to add to the tourist attraction and partly to act as a mosquito repellant. At any rate, it does add to the attractiveness of the city. We also toured the palace with its ornate rooms and collections of sedan chairs, armaments and miniature paintings.

Leaving the fort, we followed a winding back road down the old part of the city, ending up in the crowded, busy Sardar Market around an old clock tower. Maybe because it was a Sunday, the place was full of local people selling and buying everything you can imagine, from second hand clothes and electrical supplies to fruit and vegetables. One of the big interests for tourists is visiting the spice vendors. One booth can claim mention in the Lonely Planet and had a guest book where Ray found an entry from last spring for Judy Moore, a fellow Everest Trekking leader who lives in Oakville.

The next day, we joined five other Raman GH guests; a Dutch couple, an English couple and a fellow from Germany and our host, Narendra Trivedi, on a Village Safari. This is a jeep tour to several nearby villages to see how the majority of Indians live and to watch local craftsmen at work. We had a little trouble getting out of town as the main road was blocked by local truckers protesting the recent rise in prices of gas and government fees. Apparently this is happening all over Rajasthan, but has not really affected us so far, apart from the fact that the post office is also on strike and we cannot buy stamps or mail anything. We took a bumpy detour and were on our way to visit a Bishnoi village.

The family compound we visited consisted of about 30 people, headed by a Grandfather and his four sons. We were welcomed into their homes and Narendra explained the purpose of each building and how they lived. These people are not just vegetarians, they do not eat eggs as there may be a baby chick inside, and they do not drink alcohol or smoke tobacco. They do not even cut down trees. They still use wood for fuel, but it must come from small bushes, not trees.

cooking in the kitchen

farm house oven

What they do though, is take opium. We were all invited to join one of the daughters on mats on the ground to take part in the opium ritual. Unlike our image of opium users, the women do not smoke it, they drink a liquid mixture as a tonic three times a day. They did tell us the Grandfather smokes and must have his fix every day. Our hostess ground some of the opium seed with a pestle, mixed the powder with water and poured the liquid through a cloth bag into a silver dish, shaped like a shallow gravy boat. Then one at a time, she poured some of the liquid for us to drink into our palm. It was very mild, a little bitter and tasted a bit like licorice. I can't say I noticed any effect at all, even after several helpings, although Ray claimed he did. He was sitting next to our hostess and got extra helpings. We had a short stop at a nearby forest and game preserve where at least two variety of deer and some antelope were grazing around a small lake, then it was on to the second village.

This village specializes in hand woven Dhurrie carpets. The man who showed us the carpets has started a cooperative of 50 weavers and has been written up in several European and English decorating magazines. The colours and designs were lovely and I'm probably going to kick myself for not buying anything, but travelling light means either mail things home at great expense and bother or carry extra baggage. We were also served a delicious lunch here, sampling several local variations of vegetables, lentils and millet chapaties. There was also an interesting chili and garlic condiment that Ray declared very tasty.

trying the pottery wheel

decorated farm house

Our last stop of the day was a pottery village. One man demonstrated his skill at throwing the clay on a hand powered wheel and then invited us to have a try. I can tell you my effort would end up in the recycle pile. One of their specialties is large clay water jugs. We were interested to watch one of the workers take a medium sized jug and using a cradle shaped like a half eggshell and a wooden mallet, quickly stretch the jug to twice its original size. All the pots are put in the sun to dry for four days and then are heated overnight in a crude outdoor kiln.  

Our last visit was to a small textile printing operation right next door. They use wooden blocks and natural dyes to hand print lengths of cotton. The finished product doesn't cost very much in the market so I wonder how they ever make a living at this, but they do. It was a very interesting day.

Tuesday we were on the road again, but before we left, our host insisted we talk to his uncle. When we first arrived, he mentioned his uncle lived in Mississauga, and we told him we had lived there for 6 years. His uncle is now 75 and divides his time between Mississauga and a home he has built in a village near Jodhpur. Ray had a nice chat with him, so our host was pleased. In fact, he wouldn't let us leave without a small parting gift as well, a small metal camel.

We travelled just over four hours by bus to Ajmer, where we transferred to a crowded local bus going to Pushkar. The last part of the trip to Ajmer was through a hillier region than usual and the trip to Pushkar was up and over the steep Snake Mountain, Nag Pahar. The bus laboured up and down very sharp switchbacks, stopping once or twice to let another vehicle pass us. One half hour later we arrived in Pushkar and agreed to hire a rickshaw to take us to a guesthouse recommended by our Jodhpur host, Narendra. The rickshaw turned out to be a pushcart to carry our bags, but not us. We discovered later that all auto rickshaws are banned from the narrow streets of Pushkar, but unfortunately, not motorcycles. I should have listened more closely to Narendra, because we walked out of town about 2 K before finding the guesthouse. It was very nice, but we decided we wanted to be closer to the action, so back to town we went. The second place we tried didn't have a suitable room but our third try, a short block from where we had got off the bus, had a room we liked, and had a restaurant on its roof.

Pushkar is a delightful small town set in a valley on the edge of the desert, surrounding by mountains and built around a small sacred lake. It is considered to be a very holy spot for Hindus, hence all the restaurants stick to a strict vegetarian menu and do not serve alcohol. This is a gathering place for sadhus, holy men, and the site for ritual bathing at the ghats (steps) leading down to the water. Pushkar is the site of a huge camel trading fair in early November, which attracts large number of tourists as well as locals out to buy a camel. We missed that, but were very quite taken with quiet, relaxing Pushkar, despite the largest number of tourists, especially backpackers, we have seen so far. The streets are lined with shops selling all the usual souvenirs, including clothing, wall hangings, jewelry and rugs. We spent our time in Pushkar enjoying the scenery. That night, we splurged and had a buffet dinner at an upscale hotel bordering the lake. Their restaurant was on a patio overlooking the lake and our candle lit table was close to an open fire providing welcome heat to the outdoor diners. Very romantic.

Speaking of romance, the Indians love festivals and ceremonies and as we have discovered, marriage ceremonies are one of their favourites. Most Indians still adhere to the age old custom of arranged marriages and the most propitious time of year for this to happen is November, December and January. We first became aware of these activities in Jaipur as our guesthouse was near one of the favourite wedding sites. Indians go to great expense to celebrate with family and friends and a favourite choice is an outdoor facility with a portable stage surrounded by curtained walls. There is always live music, lots of food and usually fireworks, which we witnessed every night of our stay in Jaipur. One of the traditional paintings we saw later in Udaipur depicted a wedding several hundred years ago and the setting looked like the tent cities we have seen on our travels. The difference is that wedding celebrations used to go on for 9 days and now they are reduced to 2 days. It is the custom for the groom and his family to travel to the bride's family to start the celebrations. The groom often follows his family astride a horse decorated with a beaded and jeweled bridle and a blanket that reaches almost to the ground. We watched one such parade in Pushkar wind its way through the narrow streets. An eight piece band led the way followed by the family in their best clothes, and the groom on his white horse. The whole group was flanked on one side by eight women and on the other side by eight men each carrying an electric powered candelabra. The candelabras were strung together with electrical cord attached to the power source, a very large portable generator, which was so noisy it almost drowned out the band. Our hotel in Pushkar backed ont one of these wedding palaces, so we were treated each evening to loud live or recorded music. Unfortunately, we soon tired of the same tune played repeatedly. At least they did quiet down by 11 PM.

We spent our day in Pushkar exploring the town and climbing temple topped hills to admire the view. We didn't even bother with the temples, but the views were spectacular.

Thursday we took another long bus ride to Chittorgarh, the site of one of Rajasthan's biggest forts. We whiled away the time talking to the other Western couple on the bus, Americans from Rochester. We are getting all kinds of ideas of places to visit. This couple had spent two months travelling in Africa before coming to India. They did a village to village walking tour in Mali and then did animal safaris in the Tanzania, the Serengeti and South Africa. Like us, they travel independently, not on an organized tour. The Dutch couple we met in Jodhpur have also had some interesting experiences. They are travelling for one year and started by crossing overland through Europe and across Russia, where they did a nine day jeep trip in Mongolia, staying in traditional yurts, the tents of the nomads. Our travels are nothing in comparison.

The town of Chittor is certainly nothing to write home about, but the fort, reached by driving more than 1 K up a steep hill, is impressive. The town was originally situated on the top of the hill within the walls of the fort, which measure 7 K in circumference, but the whole area is now a protected park open to tourists. The palaces are now deserted ruins, but are still interesting and there are numerous temples and commemorative towers in good shape. A lot of the mystique of Chittor originates with the story of the beautiful Padmini, a wife of the Rana's uncle. A visitor to the fort, Ala-ud-din, the Pathan king of Delhi, caught a glimpse of Padmini in a mirror and decided to sack the fort in order to capture Padmini. When defeat was inevitable, all the men donned saffron robes and went out to meet the enemy and certain death. The women and children performed jauhor by burning themselves in a huge funeral pyre. This was the first of three such occurrences in Chittor's history of Rajput wars. Anyway, we spent an enjoyable few hours touring the fort and looking out over the countryside from the various ramparts and gates. Ray was taking my picture at the East gate when several village women walked by carrying full baskets on their heads. One of the women took her basket off and put it on my head so that I could try it out. I didn't drop it at least and we all had a good laugh.

Continued...Next: Episode 4: Page 2