Royal Rajastan

It's true that Rajastan is a land of palaces, forts, romance and pride. At times, I have to pinch myself for the incredible luck I continue to enjoy in such a place. At Amber Fort, I saw the palaces inhabited by royalty and as I trod through the grounds, I was stopped at virtually every second step for a photograph by Indian tourists visiting from the nearby villages. I was even followed down a corridor by a family wanting to take my photo. I got lost after a while b/c I tried to escape the masses and suddenly music started to waft through the fort. I followed the music to a group of Indian teenagers who promptly led me back to a place I could find my way out from. I had a lovely thali that was spicy and delicious and visited several palaces and temples with incredible architecture. I wasn't such a celebrity at these places, which were less incredible than Amber Fort, but far more comfortable to observe.

My luck was shaky to begin with. The rickshaw driver, Chandra ('moon' in Hindi), who drove me around Jaipur for two days took me to the sights I wanted on day 1, but on day 2, he pulled scam after scam to get a commission from shopkeepers all the way to taking me to a "guru" who worked from a jewelry store. My mistake, I guess, for asking Chandra earlier in the day what his star sign was - gave him a new angle to scam. When I saw this "guru" and his gem shop, I turned around, walked out without a word and sat in the rickshaw. When he returned to his auto with feigned confusion, I told him in no uncertain terms that I'd had it! I was so angry that tears came from my eyes - the death knell to any Indian man, even a con artist - and then - everything changed.

At that moment, I decided I didn't care about budget travelling anymore, I was NOT going to trust rickshaw driver after rickshaw driver to take me around from place to place in all of the towns I wanted to visit in Rajastan. I was determined to find one driver - and only one driver - to take me all over Rajastan. I demanded that he take me to the govt. tourist information office (NOT a place where he'd get a commission) so I could book a driver for a tour of Rajastan. Miraculously, he took me to the govt. tourist office. I paid him and thankfully watched as he drove away.

I walked into the park like setting and peacocks started to meow as the sun was setting. This calmed me instantly as I grew up with peacocks across the lake and it was somehow reassuring to hear a childhood sound in this strange and unfamiliar place. An Indian lady smiled broadly at me as I walked past and I returned the smile - grateful that another woman was nearby in this land of men, men, men always staring, always scamming, always wanting something from me. I asked the universe to please give me a trustworthy, peaceful, safe driver who was honest, respectful, a Hindu, a yogi, married and could take me all around the state and share with me Indian culture without harrassing me or trying to make extra money via commissions.

The universe clearly heard me. For starters, I booked the non a/c economy vehicle for a certain price, approx. $33 USD/day for 16 days. After agreeing on the price, the company (called by the tourist bureau) discovered it had no more economy cars and had to upgrade me to a luxury a/c vehicle with a/c for the same price. They also stated that Kalyan would be my driver. The govt. tourist agent said he knew Kalyan and he was a good, trustworthy man. Well, Kalyan isn't married - he's 28 and caring for his widowed mother who is in turn searching for a suitable wife for him. But, he is a yogi, a hindu, respectable, a ridiculously safe driver, a virgo (my FAVORITE star sign for a companion), not interested in commission, very proud of Indian culture and thrilled to share the religious and cultural aspects of country and religion with me. He meditates and does yoga every morning. He makes 175 animal sounds and wrote to the Guiness Book of World Records b/c this well exceeds the record, but got no response. He also has a beautiful singing voice and sings all the time. It only took three days for me to establish that just because he liked me, it was NOT okay for him to hope that we would have anything more than a platonic friendship as we toured the state together. So, the universe has heard me. He's the safest driver I've ever seen in India. Really. He makes suggestions for the itinerary, takes me to cheap and delicious thali restaurants and we go to pujas and temples all around India and share in the hindu culture. Of course, everythig is safer in India with a companion and a male Indian at that, by my side. He bargains for me, finds answers to my zillion questions from locals at the places we visit and has a great sense of humor and grasp of the English language. Thank you Universe!

The luck continues. Our first stop was Ajmer to go to a famous mosque where a Sufi saint from Persia came and died about 500 years ago. I came here because I thought it would be nice to pay my respects to my friend Reza. He's a sufi and shared some Rumi with me before I left that made me feel much more grounded and sane in taking this journey. Rumi explained that many more before me had done very similar journeys. We arrived in mostly Muslim Ajmer and Kalyan stayed with the car b/c it wasn't safe. I walked through old town with my head covered, but my ankles were showing (it's tough to be so tall in a Muslim place). The women kept staring at my ankles and the men stared at the rest of me. Shopkeepers called to me, beggars pulled on my clothes - it was the most aggressive place I'd been yet - but I kept walking, eager to get to the Mosque. At the entrance, they told me I couldn't take my camera or my purse inside. I looked into the lady's eyes who was sitting at the gate and she extended her hand for my bag. I knew I could trust her. I was right. Inside the mosque, I bought an offering of flowers and went into the main temple where the saint was buried. A man took my flowers and gave me prasad (sweets) and blessed me with a cloth over my head. I didn't know what he was saying or what I should be doing, but I just wished Reza and his family health, happiness and love. I wished for Reza to find a nice wife. I also thanked Reza and Rumi and thought "God Bless the Sufis," to which I instantly shuddered and wondered if I'd just committed blasphemy to Allah. I was the only non-muslim westerner in the entire mosque and it was obvious. People were looking at me as if I was blue. Men pushed me out of the way and I kindof slinked into the courtyard to watch what was going to happen next. But, at this point, I was so paranoid and insecure that all I wanted to do was leave. So I did. The lady smiled at me as she gave me back my purse. I stopped at a tourist shop to buy Reza a gift, but had no idea what anything was - there was writing on trinkets and fabric, etc. - so I decided the prasad was enough and kept walking. I saw two young muslim men feeding prasad to a cow who was licking it from their hands, and was reminded that islam and hinduism go hand in hand in this place. Why couldn't I fit in, too? I felt better. As if they sensed my confidence, the beggars stopped pulling and the shopkeepers stopped hollering. I didn't care that people were still looking at my ankles. I looked funny b/c I was faking it, but at least I was being respectful of the culture. Next time, I'd do it with a little more class.

Our next stop was Pushkar. Kalyan recommended a beautiful hotel on the lake and I got a room literally floating on top of the lake perched between Ghandi Ghat and another Ghat. The indians splashed the water on their limbs b/c it was good karma. Pujas were performed with rose petals and poured water from silver bowls. The Indians were happy to be there. Husbands and wives splashed water on eachother. Small children splashed around. Young ladies gingerly placed a toe in the water with their male relatives helping them step into the water. Singing resonated across the lake until 11 pm and started up again at 5:00 a.m. The moon was almost full as it glistened atop the water with the ever present spirituality wafting through the air in sound and feeling. The people were friendly and non-pushy. I ate thalis with the locals, sat with Rajasthani women who dressed me in a sari and put bangles on my arms for fun, was the first purchaser of a brand new shop opened by a 20-year old boy named Punkaj. His grandfather proudly beamed at his grandson's first customer loaded with two bags of gifts for her own family back home. They both agreed I had very good energy and would bring good luck to the business. I saw several westerners in town, but none were staying at the hotel. I don't know why not. It was beautiful.

Punkaj told me there was a local fair outside of town. That evening, Kalyan and I drove there. The fair was several food stands and a stage. They were holding a raffle on the stage and the women were seated on one side, while the men were on the other. I joined the beautifully adorned women and started snapping photos. They LOVED having their photo taken and I was soon surrounded by women in bright pinks, yellows, reds, etc. I felt like a pollen filled flower to a swarm of colorful honey bees. The men's jaws dropped as they stopped in their tracks and just plain stared at me. Kalyan bought a coconut so we could make an offering to the cobra deity (an instrument of Lord Shiva). I made my offering and a man handed me a handful of ash. Kalyan promptly smeared it on my third eye. I have no idea where the ash came from. I decided I didn't want to know. The fair was full of villagers - many of whom had not seen a westerner before - so I was quite the show stopper. A lady invited me to sit with her family and try her food. It was delicious as I ate it from my dirty fingers. Her husband then sternly told me that I would have to pay 500 rupees. I said "okay and you pay me 1,000 rupees," to which they all laughed and gave me the namaste as I walked away smiling and namaste'ing in return. As we left the fair, the villagers were also departing on tractors and motorcycles, horses and carts pulled by camels and oxen. God, I love India.

We next went to Kumbulgargh - highly recommended by the man at the tourist office. The luck increased. We stopped at a cheap guesthouse which was unacceptable to me b/c it had no windows and appeared to have bedbugs. We then stopped at a luxury tent resort b/c the location was beautiful. Tents usually go for 2,000 rupees. I told them my budget was 300. They said 'no' and I gave up. Kalyan said something and they changed their mind. I was the only guest and had VIP treatment for two nights in a giant luxury tent atop a gorgeous mountain in the middle of the jungle. Peacocks meowed and danced at dawn and the sounds of the forest played like a symphony all night and day. The food was delicious, the service impeccable and the experience nothing less than royal. All for 300 rupees a day. The fort at Kumbulgargh was gorgeous. I explored various temples and places on the land, feeling utterly safe, for 4 hours as Kalyan waited at the tea shop. I was reminded of exploring Tikal on my own, where ancient temples were overrun by jungles with leaping monkeys and gorgeous birds. Camels also passed by. A village teenager accompanied me to the jain temple and explained the history to me. I thought she wanted money, but she declined, wished me happiness and sauntered back into the forest from whence she came. I sat on the edge of the sun temple and birds whizzed by my neck so quickly that I could hear the wind underneath their wings. It was magic and beautiful and enchanting. At night, they lit up the fort so it illuminated like a christmas tree dating back to the 1500s. It was pure magic!

As we drove through the country road to Udaipur, I asked Kalyan to stop for the first time solely to take the picture of a beautifully adorned man. He wore jewelry, a bright turban and literally shined like a bright peacock. I took many photos of he and others dressed like him that appeared out of nowhere. Kalyan discovered that they were gypsies who were going to perform at a festival 16 kms from whence we came. They invited us to join them. We went. We took three of them in the car with us. They suggested we first go to a Shiva temple, which we did. The Indians were more enthralled with these three gypsy traveller/dancers than they were with me. Sunner, Ganesh and Babu didn't wear shoes or eat green veggies for 30 days in preparation for this festival b/c they believe it helps them dance better. They were kind and respectful and vibrant. On our way down hundreds of stairs to the Shiva temple (located inside a cave with stalagtites dripping with water (or stalagmites?), they bought local fruit "cita full" which they gave to me to enjoy. It was delicious - looks like a little artichoke but is sweet, white and fleshy. Babu carried my water. When we got to the temple, they gave me a tikka on my forehead. When we walked up the path, they shared their coconuts with passers by. Sunner asked if I wanted glitter, to which I ascented. He put it on my face. He then asked if I wanted kohl on my eyes. I agreed. They were thrilled at the after effects as they admired my 'indian eyes' and swelled with pride at my transformation. When we finally got to the top of the hill, I changed out of my sweaty black pants and blue cottor top into a colorful silk skirt, blue shirt and colorful scarf. They smiled from ear to ear and we made a VERY colorful bunch as we approached a festival with literally hundreds of villagers dressed in every possible color watching dances, songs, comedy routines and people possessed by spirits in the middle of a giant field. These festivals happen rarely and the gypsies are always on the move. We were VERY lucky to experience this event. When it started raining, Kalyan and I jumped in the car and drove on.

We passed another village about five hours later and the people were sprawled next to a lake. We stopped. As we approached the Krishna being carried up the hill, the entire village stopped and watched me. Again, I was a spectacle. I felt horrible for usurping Krishna's rightful place at center stage. But, I pretended I didn't notice and gave all my attention to the puja. After the puja, children surrounded me and said hello, shook my hand and asked for 'photo.' They offered me an apple, which I took and when I took a bite and smiled, they broke into applause. They then gave me a banana. They then showed me a black cobra that they stoned to death. I was getting a little too smothered by the kids, so Kalyan pulled me away and told them we had to go. A boy told him he'd never seen anyone like me before and asked where I was from. They waved and smiled as they swarmed around the car yelling "Bye Bye." Further up the road, the villagers were blocking the road and dancing for Krishna. They didn't move from the front of the car until Kalyan started laughing. This is a land of celebration and spirituality and wonder. The poverty and hard work is everywhere, but so is the celebration. So is my luck.

We arrived late in Udaipur, which was nice, but I expected something more. I think I had been spoiled. We are now in Mt. Abu. We ascended the mountain in a downpour of rain. Today, I walked through the jungle hoping to see a bear on a trek, but had no such luck. We then went to a gorgeous Jain temple and took a boat around the lake at sunset with no rain. It was lovely. We also visited Rama Krishna spiritual university and I found it a bit cultish and bizzarre. Tomorrow, we leave for Jodphur and I look forward to dry weather again, although the thunder and lightning is incredible to experience.

Christian and I decided to forego Morocco and I have confirmed my return from Egypt to Bombay, thanks to the help of my mother and stepfather. Thank you! All is well and as it should be. I am at times very lonely, especially when the Indian tourists in all of these places (mostly from Gujarat) stare at me like I'm insane for eating or walking alone. But then again, I'm American. Things are different. Independence is different. I'm different. It's okay. There is no harm or danger that I feel here. Only curiosity. Isn't this part of why I travel, too? It is a pleasure and an honor to be here. They can stare all they want. I am lucky to be alive. Lucky to be in India. And I welcome these ups and down in my travels.

Rajastan, like India, is a magical journey. And the cows continue to be revered more than anything. Something I still find hysterical every single time. Increidible.