Jaipur Calling: August 2005

Photographs

I have now uploaded 95 India photos to the internet. You can view and save them at the following address: http://ladyinpink.smugmug.com/gallery/2612812#137848884.

Enjoy!

Memories, looking forward tos and thank yous

As I write this, I am in an internet cafe at the international terminal of New Delhi's airport. My journey in India will end in less than two hours, and I wanted to post my thoughts.

Memories

The roads. The roads, with their cows and their bulls, their monkeys and their donkeys, their spitting and their urinating, their dogs and their dirt and their beggars. And never, ever will I understand how Indians can be so pushy in their driving, yet have no otherwise concept of time! Pausing at a red light, waiting for the green go ahead, a counter will tick down to 0. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife, as motorcyclist upon motorcyclist moves into every spare gap, edging towards the start line. All have a foot a step ahead of legitimacy. Then WHAM!, the counter hits 0 - the motorcycle marathon begins. And God forbid you be crossing the road as this mob advances, for they will not halt for you. Unless, of course, you are the holy cow: India's ultimate traffic stopper. Ah yes, as a mere human being, I have no authority on India's streets. I do, however, have one small success: I managed to cross M.I. road. As one of Jaipur's busiest roads, I think I did quite well to escape with nothing worse than a small heart flutter.

Michelle. Coming home to her and chatting (or moaning!) about our days. Late night conversations about the men in our lives. Grumbling together when we had to wake up far sooner than we'd have liked to. Shopping in the bazaars (markets). Sharing good chocoate cake or a Smokin' Joes pizza. Getting ready together for parties and trainee dinners. Her calming reassurance that I did look ok!

Indian food. The breads - chapatis, rotis and parathas. Yellow dahl - a thick lentil stew that is dipped into for added flavour (it's delicious). Shahi paneer and paneer butter masala. Paneer, I am told, is cottage cheese, but I still refuse to believe this. It both tastes and looks like a chicken substitute, and comes cubed in curries. Ladyfinger vegetables, in the delicious sauce that Divya, my landlady, made them in. Jeera aloo and aloo tamator - potato curries (which formed my staple diet for quite some time).

The man in the art shop who bought my Mirinda Orange, and "mmmm-hmmmed" whenever I asked for something - regardless of whether he actually had it. Sumer Singh, my rickshaw driver, who told me to pay him "as I liked". How he told us that we were his children. His daily greeting of good morning when he took me to work, and his comment that he had "big experience" as a rickshaw driver.

The sweet man in the Barista cafe, an airconditioned Western haven, who grew to know my name and my regular order. (That would be a cup of Earl Grey tea and a slice of warmed chocolate cake.) The men in my most frequented bangle shop, who automatically knocked 10% off my bill (I bargained on the grounds of being a poor student). The man in the bakery who told me his life story on just our first meeting. My colleagues - Samidha, who always winked and gave a sweet laugh when I smiled at her, and who invited me into her home to cook dinner for me. Prayanka, who asked me to help her write a love letter. Anuj, who insisted on calling me over with a "hey lady!" greeting, thinking that he was being polite.

Looking forward tos

Watching Friends on the plane. Reading my goodbye book. The first glimpse of my family at the airport. The car journey to Northampton. Home cooked dinner, and MEAT! My lilac carpet. Making a photo album of India. Having unlimited internet access. Giving my presents to everybody. My birthday. Cold enough weather to wear my pink coat again. Oxford. Oxford at night. Oxford in the snow. My friends. Hot chocolate and real chocolate cake!

Thank yous

To my parents, for letting go of me and for giving so much. To my brother, for all our early morning MSN conversations. To my Gran, for such thoughtful postcards. To Will, for your ceaseless encouragement. To Chris, for your sweet email, and your promise of pizza. To Gemma, for keeping me sane with your wicked sense of humour! To Jan, for never failing to post frequent and thoughtful comments. To Hiba, for missing me so much.

To Divya, for taking care of me when I was sick. To the trainees in AIESEC Jaipur: Tessa, for your never ending good nature and your giggles. Cristina, for such faithful friendship, and for telling me to do nothing I'd regret - particularly if not doing something would form a regret! To Michelle, for being the most wonderful room mate. To Siri, for folding all of my shawls for me. To Hal, for your incredible laugh. To Patrick, for always being so friendly. To Owen, for taking such great photos. To Yvo, for a wonderful last conversation. To the AIESECers: Ankit, for always greeting me with a kiss - the "UK way"! Ankur, for always saying hello to me. To Godof, for pulling my hair and pretending it wasn't you. Sahil, for your email (!), and the lift to Geoffreys that drunken night. To Gautam, for the beautiful flowers. To Ajit, for our conversation about missing people, and for letting the boys drop me off yesterday. To Tabs, for your sweet smile, and for pretending the train was moving! To Himanshu, for always being late, and for simply being you.

I cried for you all when I left Jaipur: I feel so privileged to have met so many special people.

And finally, to my unknown blog followers, for being such loyal readers. Thank you for the 1000 hits ... thank you for listening.

Photo: Through the archway

Through the archway.

Photo: The Taj Mahal

The Taj Mahal!

Photo: Me by the Taj

Me by the Taj.

Photo: Me "holding" the Taj

Me "holding" the Taj!

Photo: Me and Michelle with the beautiful Olympian

Me and Michelle with the beautiful Olympian!

The Taj, an Olympian and a Suspected Transsexual

Last weekend I made my first official trip out of Jaipur. And where better to go than Agra? Home to the Taj Mahal, it was definitely on my list of “must sees”.

Michelle and I travelled there by train. Getting to the station was our first difficulty, having to wind our way through the sleeping bodies that littered the concrete entrance. Walking past “sleeper class”, I was reminded of a jail on wheels. There is no air conditioning, and so window holes are the only means of relief. Security demands three solid bars to cover each one. Hands and arms poke through them, writhing together in a chaotic cacophony. Thankfully we had chosen the 2nd class “AC sleeper” carriage, and did not have to join this crowd. Michelle had experienced a 20 hour journey in sleeper class, and told me that I would become ill if I attempted such a feat. I was willing to trust her judgement.

Our carriage was perfectly pleasant. From each wall hung three mattresses, which could also double up as seats (if you got the bottom mattress, that is – seats are preassigned). After years of gymnastics, Michelle deftly hoisted herself up to the top one, leaving a very grateful me in the bottom bed. We rested for some time, but the jerk of Indian trains is unavoidable in any class, so sleep was difficult. Michelle later rejoined me to sit on the bottom bed, when a very gorgeous Spaniard approached us to talk. His name was Jose. We learnt that he was touring India for three weeks, and always uses his work holiday allowance to travel. A wonderful idea, we thought! After further discussions, we were stunned to discover that he had been in the 1996 Olympics, playing water polo. More than that, he earned a gold medal. Finally understanding the reason for such a well built upper body, it’s safe to say that we were more than impressed. With great reluctance, we parted ways to go to our separate hotels. Giggling like school girls in our rickshaw, we cursed ourselves for not asking for contact details.

Our hotel was simple and clean, with a very pretty garden area. After a good night’s sleep, I enjoyed honey pancakes for breakfast, something I welcomed with great enthusiasm. After many final hair checks (I wanted good photos!), our driver took us to the palace. As we were walking to deposit our mobile phones, Michelle suddenly poked me. “Sam, is that him, is that him!” she whispered. No, it couldn’t be. He had planned to tour the Taj at 1pm, and the time was now 11am. Besides, there were thousands upon thousands of people here, and the chances were next to nothing. Deciding to try anyway, we shouted “Jose!” and were delighted when he turned round – it was him! We decided to tour the palace together.

The Taj was commissioned by the Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan, as a mausoleum (large stately tomb) for Arjumand Banu Begum, his Persian wife. Built in 1630, it took 23 years to complete. After stringent security checks and parting with the hefty “foreign tourist” fee of 750 Rs (Indians pay just 20 Rs!), we were allowed to enter. You first walk into a large courtyard, with a huge 30m tall red archway at the back centre. The arch way has Arabic lettering from top to bottom, and a clever optical illusion is incorporated – the symbols at the top are much larger than at the bottom, so that when looking up, the letters appear to be of the same height. (If they were actually the same height, they would appear to get smaller at the top.) My guidebook says that the Taj is so hidden you will almost wonder where it is, and it was exactly right. Not until we got close to the archway could we even get a glimpse. Walking through, you are struck by the luminosity of the white marble (it is said to “glow” at night time), and by the intricate elegance of the palace. It was absolutely faultless. You must remove your shoes to walk on the Taj, but the heat was so intense that my feet scorched on the marble. (It felt a little like hop scotch, darting between the cooler dark stones.) Our tour guide asked us to guess the height of the centre spire, to which we said about three metres. He informed us that it was in fact ten, which really put the height of the Taj into perspective! We were fortunate to have such good weather, and got some lovely photographs (including one with the beautiful Jose).

After some shopping, and making sure to get Jose’s details this time (he even had a business card, much to our delight), we caught our return train to Jaipur. Michelle slept as she was tired, so I passed the time by chatting to another passenger, an extravagant lady called Brenda. However, I wasn’t quite sure that she was a lady. She was very well built, six feet tall, with long nails and a voice deeper than that of any woman I know. Nevertheless, she was fascinating to talk to. She had a strange history of foreign men, informing me of a failed one day marriage to a Romanian and a just-ended engagement to an Arab. (She left the US for good when she realised Mr. Bush would win in 2000.) She was also a Buddhist, and we spent a good few hours discussing the religion. It is primarily logical, with nothing to believe that doesn’t make sense. It incorporates a very peaceful philosophy, underpinned by the principles of harmlessness and moderation.

Reaching Jaipur, I actually felt disappointed to get off the train. I had thoroughly enjoyed talking to Brenda and Jose (well, just looking at Jose was good enough), and I do believe that I have caught the travel bug. Where will I head to next, I wonder?

Photo: Statue Circle

This is Statue Circle, in the middle of a junction in Jaipur. It's very beautiful! At night time, Indians gather here to sit and chat with friends.

Photo: My Class

This is the class that I teach each morning! I find it very hard to remember their names, but I'm getting there.

Photo: Cake Smearing!

Sudanshu turned 21 at 12am this morning, and this occasion was celebrated by lots and lots of cake smearing!

Photo: Me and Himanshu

We went on to a pub after the dinner last night. I could have been in England! A really lovely bar in a very expensive hotel. I'm with Himanshu in this one.

Photo: Me and a V Shape!

Tessa told me to make this V shape for the photo. I'm not quite sure what it's for, but I like it anyway!

Photo: Me and AIESECers at the Trainee Dinner

At the trainee dinner last night. Ankit is on my left again, with Godof on my right. All are AIESECers, and Ankit is VPOGX ... OGX, OGX, OGX ... ! (That's vice president of outgoing exchange, and the exclamations are because I hold the same position in AIESEC Oxford.)

Photo: Trainee Dinner

A photo to show the lively atmosphere at our weekly trainee dinners! All the AIESECers come too.

Photo: Pasi and Stephan

These two sweet guys are Pasi and Stephan. Both are a part of the HOPE project! Pasi is on my right, and is engaged to Laura (another trainee). Both are from Finland. Stephan works at Pratham with me, and is German.

Photo: Neighbours

Everybody celebrating Elin's birthday at the stroke of midnight! These are the people that live in the rooms next door to us. Elin is on the right with red hair, and Siri is leaning forward in the middle. Both are Swedish and share a room. Cristina (in red) is from Romania, and Mart (to her right) is Estonian. Mart shares a room with Hal, the Japanese guy to his right. Angeli is in the middle, and she is from the Phillipines. The others don't live next to us but came to join in with the celebrations.

Photo: Me and AIESECers at the Party

Myself and some AIESECers, in their Indian clothes at the party. Himanshu is on my left, and Ankit is on my right. My two most loved AIESECers!

Photo: Michelle and Me

Michelle and me before last Friday's "Indian Clothes Only" party!

Jaipur Calling

Thursday, August 25, 2005