Saturday, December 7, 2013

Rajastani collage: Jodhpur and Udaipur

I lost a really good post made on the experiences around Jodhpur and Udaipur, so I will try to make a small recap, after the intensity of the last four days. Hope you bear with me if details are skipped.

I have Jodhpur as my second stop on Rajastan after Jaisalmer. The first thing one finds after googling a bit on the place, is a lovely hill full of blue houses in the middle of a rocky desert. Why the city is painted in blue seems to be unclear, but some say that it has to do with the desires of one of the ruling maharajas, who was deeply fond of Vishnu. I am very much looking forward to see the place, as the conditions of the rocky desert will let me play a little bit with some of the polarizer filters in the camera, apart from being recommended the fort, much bigger than Jaisalmer's.

The dawn after leaving Jaisalmer presents one of those memories hard to forget, and show me how different this country is from what I already know. I arrive a 5:30 in the morning, and the train station is filled with a sea of people sleeping in the floor. In between saris and bags, a multitude of women, babies and men try to cover themselves from the biting cold of these 12 degrees. Among them, several rats roam and pigeons around in the search of food.

One thing that is very different from Colombia to India is how the reality of others can be seen right in front of you, with no censorship. Let me elaborate: Colombia, as well as many other South American countries, is formed by a social base heavily rooted on a class system. Most of middle and upper classes live happily in gated neighborhoods, and access is only granted by members from within. This makes upper classes live in a controlled, safe environment, keeping outside any "un welcomed" (members of other societal circles) outside. Even when moving across cities, the city excludes: cars have priority in the traffic, and any contact with a poorer inhabitant of the city can be avoided by simply closing the window of your car. In my travel to India, this choice is non-existent, and pretty much one has to see the real colors of an unequal society want it or not. Jodhpur is just one example of that: to go outside the station one has to cross a very depressed area. Despite the shock, it doesn't feel horribly insecure, leaves questions on our responsibility as highly educated individuals with more opportunities.

I'm very curious on the cast system in Hinduism, and what it is its role in nowadays India. In other places like Colombia, Argentina or Mexico, visiting remotely similar areas (I mean, with equivalent levels of poverty) than the ones I had walked in India have led me with a big sense of uneasiness and insecurity. It does not feel the same in India, and despite I know people would like to get money from your condition of foreigner, it does not feel that it comes at the expense of violence. I have not visited an Indian slum yet, and my perception might change when I do that in Mumbai. My hypothesis is that, while in Catholic countries fate is something dynamic and changeable though actions, in Hinduism fate (dharma) is already configured even before birth, and social status is rarely changed. A second option could be that the cities I have been are touristic, but that can be easily disproved by the fact that there are simply not enough policemen per amount of inhabitants to control a possible security event.



Coming back to Jodhpur, well... The city has a nice fort. Going uphill in the middle of blue houses is a delight, and the Majarahas who lived there made a really good job to build a bastion and preserve it in such a long dynasty. Once in there, one can really imagine the power of this people, with golden chambers to spoil their dozens of wives.

After the short trip to the city, I head to Udaipur. I confess that I have been spoiled by the readings of this city, who seems to be the Indian Venice, or more. For a reason it was selected as one of the places where James Bond's Octopussy was filmed, and it inspired glamour and romance. As traveling alone  not necessarily involves romance, I dedicate myself to the discovery. My hotel is located in Hanuman ghat, and the name of the location could not be chosen better. In my first morning there, the bridge connecting the two sides if the ghats receives a roam of apes running in all directions. Their erratic behavior, compulsion and resemblance to schizophrenics made me be a bit away from these animals, although it seems nice to have them roaming around. Monkeys top Jaisalmer's boars (and of course donkeys, horses, camels and the omnipresent cows) in the scale of weird animals in Indian streets. Without knowing it, I have arrived for the royal engagement party, and the whole city has preparations including the city palace, chants in the lake, and loud Indian disco music played from the boats. It's really interesting to be here, and the city is more refreshing, cleaner and quieter than Jodhpur. 


Udaipur is enclaved between several hills, whose bottom was dug by a maharaja to build a lake, therefore its charm. With both city and inlake residences, the royal family counts with spaces to enjoy, and still counts with a super hotel in the middle of the lake to be used only by VIPs or royal acquaintances.


 I spend my days roaming around the city. I grow more skeptical of my interactions with locals, as the poor knowledge of the rajastanis I have met is limited to money-gathering phrases, and it becomes a bit irritating to be targeted as a walking wallet. Despite this, I get to meet some characters worth mentioning: Baghwati is one of the guys in the staff from the hotel "assigned to help me", and knowing that I live in Denmark, proceed to tell me the story on how some missionaries from Kastrup(?) have helped him and his family with education for children. I even bring a postcard to be delivered once I'm back in DK. The second is a tuk tuk driver that befriend me on my days there. Azaed, as customary in Indian families, lives with his wife, three kids and parents in a small apartment, and work 14 hours a day as a taxi and tuk tuk driver to answer for the load of 6 people at his charge. It's really touching to receive an invitation to stay at his place after knowing his conditions, and I wonder what would it be needed for a person I the place where I live to react similarly.

The funny annectdote (otherwise it won't be a good post) is my first visit to an Indian hospital. It sounds more alarming than it was, as I simply went to the tourist information centre enquiring for a physiotherapeutic massage. Knowing the amount of scams and "other massages", having a good source if info seemed to be important. The lady in the counter proceed to book me directly in the Ayurvedic hospital of the state, and I had almost no chance to refute. It seems that some states in India have established Ayurvedic care as part of their health policies, and it costs nothing to go and receive treatment. Getting to know an Indian Ayurvedic hospital is an experience, mainly because it is not an acute wing (after having seen so many diseases in the area, this is probably the place where I would like the least to be interned), its infrastructure was in the museum when my mother started in the  faculty of medicine, and there is no way for me to understand Hindi. Still, the doctor and the therapist are magicians, and I go out of the place having almost new legs.

On a side note, I think the character of the writings here can become very personal, and therefore I might or might not post the updates in Facebook anymore. The blog will still be open, and you are welcome to check it for more updates directly here.

Wait for the next delivery, that will cover the last of the sites in Rajastan, Jaipur, and the city of the Taj Mahal, Agra...





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