Garbz and Ghada In Incredible India: Jaipur

Well I have to say, I just absolutely LOVED Jaipur. I have to be honest, I wasn’t all that keen on it. Jaipur- “Pink City” of India, the capital of Rajasthan. For one thing, though it has always gotten rave reviews from all those who visited it, but somehow the pictures on the web did not show it off in all its glory.

Briefly, there are three “neighborhoods” in Jaipur. First there is the Old City, encircled by 7 Gates, and home to the famous Pink colored buildings. It is said that the city was painted yellow, but the ruler of Jaipur ordered the coloring of the buildings because apparently Pink was Queen Victoria’s favorite color.

Surrounding the landmarks (such as the Hawa Mahal, or the City Palace) are rows and columns of incessant markets, zoned into themes in some instances.

Second, there is the area around the Amer Fort (or Amber Fort). This fort, among others, sits on hilltops surrounding the main city.

Finally, there is the area of New Jaipur which is home to, well, New Jaipur- Malls, modern glass towers and what have you.

We started the day in Amer Fort. We had relied exclusively on hired taxis in Mumbai- which was the right thing to do there. Here, we started by hiring a “Tuk-Tuk” or the rickshaws, and away we went to Amer Fort.

The area drips “tourist trap”, but is simply spectacular. This is where you come to pay 900 Indian Rupees for an elephant ride, or where you see monkeys galore. And of course the annoying salespeople who don’t let you walk two steps without flashing a thousand and one goods in front of your face.

This is where Bajran approached us, flashing a Government Tour guide badge and offering us a tour of the Fort.

“We’re not interested. Besides, we have very little time over here. We’re stepping in, and stepping out”.

“I’ll save you time, and besides I’ll give you the stories behind the places!”, he fired back.

“How much?”

“200 Rupees” (that’s about $4).

Oh well. So we took him on, and within 30 minutes we had seen the Fort, heard its stories, and were on our way out and into main village where the locals live. This is where Sharma led us to the Village shops, which is one big building selling essentially all the products typical of the region and people. It is not to be mistaken for the government emporiums which enforce a fixed price policy and which sell stuff at reasonable prices.

We spent a lot of money.

At one point, Ghada was led by the wily salespeople to the jewelry department. “We don’t force you to buy, nor do we sell you anything! You buy what you want!”.

“Haven’t we bought enough!” I fired back, amused by their persistence.

“Yes, but let the lady look for 5 minutes, and then leave!”.

“You know it’s not going to be 5 minutes! You know damn well that the surest way to keep us here for another hour is to dangle some stones in front of the lady!” He smiles.

Eager to save the situation, Sharma decides to distract me by offering me a ride on his bike. At that point, Ghada was deep into a Palm-reading session trying to rectify her earlier anger at being told she has a short “Sun Line”. So off I went on the back of a motorbike with some stranger I met trying to sucker even more commission. Up this hill we went, down the other hill, through the village with old people sitting outside playing cards. This is the non-touristy Jaipur, and indeed it was. Somehow, the vagrants disappear from this area, and you see no youngsters approaching you with sob stories of why they need a rupee.

There’s a bunch of laborers. We get them from other parts of India to do the work that Jaipurians don’t want to do, Bajran tells me. Funny, I think to myself, there really is a hierarchy of people who refuse to do any work, and in the Food Chain pyramid, Jaipurians, apparently are that much higher up the chain.

It’s a funny thing walking around a place like Jaipur, or any other tourist trap in India. Vagrants exist everywhere of course, but here, they set their sights on the tourists. You seldom see them harass Indians to the same extent. And foreigners always seem to happily oblige; a rupee here, a rupee there. It’s strange given that globally, India is one of the emerging powers, while the West is receding. You guys are richer than we are, I want to scream J.

Anyways, Sharma and I ended up on the other side of the hill where Amer Fort is, before a big lake, a little waterfall where local children were splashing around. We took a seat in one of the gazebos, where a bunch of goats approached us, and decided to lounge around.

It is a remarkable thing about India that “everything” seems to co-exist and space is shared by all: the car, the Tuk-Tuk, the pedestrian, the cow, the monkey, and now the goat. They are all fearless.

Fast forward to the night, Sharma insisted on “taking us out” for a nice evening with very typical Rajasthani fare (well after that handsome commission he must be receiving, why not?). So we obliged, it is an amusement park of some ancient fanciful Rajasthan.

There has been an uneasy interaction between Ghada and myself, with each trying to not trample on the other, or to outdo the other. Each trying to go the extra length not to show that they are wrestling control of the trip, or that they fit better, or that well, they can stomach India’s hygiene issues more fearlessly!

So at this Rajasthani “amusement” park, sitting outside, barefoot, on the floor was perhaps the biggest test to date. In front of us were plates made from Banana or Palm or some other leaves, clay/mud cups, banana leaf bowls. The waiters would walk buy throw some concoction or another on our plates, and we would eat it. There were roaches on the floor around me, and I was getting queasy, but said nothing. Remember, I would stomach this trip and not wince or complain! Then Ghada let out a shriek. A grasshopper the size of half my palm had landed on her plate. And before too long, one of the roaches scurrying on the floor managed to find its way to my plate. That was my cue to stop eating. Alright, the Garbz needs a break and a flight to the mountains!