Rajasthan

Last Thursday afternoon I was on my way to the airport to catch a flight to Jaipur, Rajasthan. Most people take a cab to the airport, but there’s also a much less expensive bus service that operates out of certain locations in Hyderabad. The closest one is in Hitech City; after a few shared auto rides I bought a bus ticket and visited the nearby Cybertowers to exchange some dollars into rupees, 47 per dollar that is (the economic troubles in the States have also caused a depreciation in the rupee value, in actuality everyday the USD is worth more and more rupees).

Compared to the rs.+700 taxi ride, the rs.150 bus ride in combination with rs.5 auto rides was a good choice. I got to the airport after dark, about 2 hours after I had left the university, but I still had time because my flight wasn’t due to leave until almost 9. The Rajiv Gandhi International Airport at Hyderabad is spectacular, I don’t know if I’ve written about it before but it’s less than a year old and its sleek look sure does say so. The interior was also decorated with thousands of lights in anticipation for the Diwali festival the next week.

Diwali is a huge five day Hindu holiday that throughout India is celebrated by families gathering together, eating lots of sweets, decorating the house with lots of lights, and setting off tons of firecrackers. So many “crackers” are set off throughout India that the emission of pollution is a growing concern. You’ll read more about the extent of cracker quantity I experienced later on.

The policeman outside of the airport entrance wasn’t initially keen on letting me in; he wanted my identification and my passport. When I only showed him a photocopy, he got really confused and couldn’t understand why I didn’t have the real thing. I explained that I wasn’t leaving the country and that I actually was living in Hyderabad, but I guess he wasn’t expecting that. I wasn’t concerned, there’s no reason why I actually needed to have my passport; he was just giving me a hard time.

After entering, I found Indigo Airlines check-in (not difficult, so many people were there to help) to register and collect my ticket. Heading over to security, I stopped by one of the loud-speakers to listen to the music it was playing. Some people gave me a funny look.

I kept my belt and shoes on while walking through the detector at security, but that doesn’t mean security was more relaxed than I’m used to. Everyone was also required to stand on a stool and have a hand-held metal detector run over them while being frisked. Additionally they opened my bag to look around in it a little. No problem here; go ahead and see if you can find something interesting.

Walking away from security my jaw continually dropped for the next hour or so as I browsed around the airport. It wasn’t especially large, just really nice; and it had amazing food options. And the music was great. And the floors were so well cleaned that my feet slipped backward every step I took. No one else in the airport seemed as excited as I was about the availability of my favorite foods, and I ended up cracking up at the idea of how strange I looked with my bright face and wide eyes. Laughing only made it worse, and also funnier. I ended up firstly getting kachori smothered in green mint sauce, red sweet sauce, and white curd. For my second course at a different restaurant I had a special paneer dish wish vegetables and kulcha (a bread). After, I got a dessert that was made of pink rose water, white milk, ice cream, spaghetti, and these slimy seeds that looked identical to fish eggs. The dessert was recommended by an Indian I met who lives in England. We talked some until it was time for me to fill my water bottle up and board the plane.

The plane looked brand new, completely white with blue (indigo) seats. Leg room was definitely limited; that’s probably because it’s an entirely Indian operated airline with passengers that average a height significantly less than my own. The cabin was completely open, usually there’s some divider for bathrooms or class barriers or something but everyone on the full plane had a good clear view of the sole lurpy foreigner with curly blonde hair in row 6 who doesn’t seem to fit comfortably. And who’s also entirely too excited to be on an airplane. The sides of the cabin emitted clouds of hydrating mist before takeoff (which I alarmingly thought was smoke initially), and the stewardesses had a touch-screen monitor in the front that they used to dim the cabin lights.

I’ve wanted to see Rajasthan for quite some time. Although I hadn’t even heard of Rajasthan before coming to India, accounts from people here about the desert climate, rare souvenirs, and delicious food have continually allured me. Because it didn’t seem as if I’d have time after the semester ended to see it, this was probably my one chance, and certainly my last break in schoolwork and other obligations until crunch time at the end of the semester. I’ve always wanted to go to Egypt (it was actually my first thought initially in deciding where to abroad), and it was my hope that I was going to get the chance to experience a similar arid climate.

The flight took exactly 1 hour and 50 minutes like they promised, a good deal compared to the +36 hour train ride alternative. I arrived in Jaipur at about 11 pm and easily met my friends who were anxiously waiting for me. I first met Ashu and Ankit during my trip to Goa; we remained in contact, and because we had had such a good time in Goa, I figured it’d be great to visit them and have them show me around the city. They were SO excited to see me, as if we had been best friends for some time before. Ashu’s 26 year old brother, Pradeep, is a driver by profession, so having a car to get to and from the airport was no problem. And also all throughout the city. That whole night they took me to all sorts of places in Jaipur including monuments, lakes, cinemas, and malls. None of it was open of course, but it was still fun to see. We also met up with 2 more of their friends and ate at this open restaurant with ceiling fans low enough to give me a haircut. By the time we headed back to Ashu’s house, it was 4 in the morning.

I was hoping not to disturb his family, but upon my arrival, Ashu’s mother and father were up and excited to meet me, as well as serve me chai. Ashu’s father is in the military and moves around quite a bit; the family has been in Jaipur for 3 years but is initially from Uttar Pradesh. Ashu’s mother doesn’t speak very much English but loves to laugh and also loves to see me try to speak Hindi. She’s one of those Indians who is 100% excited just that you can respond by saying “tora tora” (a little) when she asks if I know Hindi. I can imagine her excitement, not many people from the States can speak another language, let alone a non-romantic one of a country that has so much English influence anyway.

After some conversation, I was completely wiped and fell asleep in Ashu’s bed; he insisted on taking a cot on the floor. The next morning I heard Ashu’s father come into the room and do a short puja at the shrine in Ashu’s room; when I woke up soon after the shine’s oil lamp was still lit. For breakfast Ashu and I had aloo paratha and curd. Aloo paratha is layered flatbread that is stuffed with potatoes and spices, one of my favorites. After breakfast I was introduced to Ashu’s sister, Kushboo, who is 18 and in her first year at college, hoping to go to dental school after. I also showed Ashu’s mom my Hindi notes that I had brought to study; she loved reading through all of it and correcting the mistakes she could find.

I later was introduced to Ashu’s neighbors who also didn’t know much English but still thoroughly enjoyed my company. They of course also made me chai. The chai I had throughout Rajasthan had ginger added to it; that made it really tasty, and I had no problem drinking any amount of chai that any of my new acquaintances would offer.

At about noon, Ashu, Ankit, and I met up with another friend, Vivek, and we all went to a museum that displayed Jaipur’s history. My favorite part was the section with musical instruments, most having variations on the pervasive stringed instrument with an array of tinier resonating strings underneath. One was as big as a table.

After that we headed to the Amer Fort, one of my favorite places that we visited on the whole trip. On the way there we rode through the “pink city,” Jaipur’s old city named after the old pink/terra cotta colored buildings that line the busy streets. It’s such an experience; there’s people every which way, towering old buildings crammed together that look like they’re ready to crumble, goats, cows chewing on cardboard and other garbage, knotted nets of electrical wire, colorful fruits and scarves, and dust all around.

The Amer Fort is outside of the city and is spread across the dry mountains. It covers a huge area which encompasses another part of Jaipur inside, and its walls undulated over the mountains as far as you could see, just like the Great Wall in China. Way at the top of the fort there were amazing views that only a picture could really describe. Also the worlds largest cannon was there, said to be able to shoot a cannon 40 km; the first time it was used the tremendous recoil killed the individual operating it. We visited the armory as well as the main royal area where the king and multiple queens would reside and spend their time. The whole place was terra cotta-colored and the ground was dusty. I could definitely tell how valuable water is in the area by seeing how dry everything was. That made the green garden (the queens’ courtyard) at the top that much more shocking.

We took our motorcycles (don’t worry, I’m just a passenger) to another great vantage point of the fort which looked out over Jaipur city, and we stayed until dark, talking about all sorts of things including what we should do the next few days. On our trip back home, we stopped at a famous sweet shop in the old city to get kachori and lassi (thick yogurt drink); Jaipur’s famous for lassi.

Back at home we had a delicious dinner before planning what to do the next day. Ashu had been to practically no other places in Rajasthan and was eager to see a lot; Lonely Planet was of course a godsend with all of its maps and information. It took a while to figure out, but we ended up planning to go overnight (with Pradeep as a driver) to Mount Abu in the south, spend the day there, travel overnight to Jaisalmer, spend some time there, and then head back to Jaipur after, possibly stopping at Jodhpur on the way. After packing up all our things, we left for our journey at about midnight.

Although car seats aren’t necessarily as comfortable as the beds on a train, a car would afford more flexibility of where and when to go, additionally it turned out to be a big asset at Mount Abu where we would have probably had to hire a driver anyway to get around. Mount Abu is the highest peak in Rajasthan, and it took quite some time to drive up through windy roads that climbed upward practically forever. We finally got to the peak sometime early in the afternoon. There is a famous temple there that we visited, as well as the look-out over the mountaintops. There was a faint haze that prevented a clear view to the mountain range base, but the sight was still nice.

We headed back to the town of Mount Abu where we got to see more views at lookouts and also Ankit, Ashu, and I (while Pradeep slept in the car) went to “sunset rock” which offered a great view of the sunset. So many people were there, evidently it was the place to be. We walked back through the town, looked at all the shops, bought some snacks, and started to walk around the lake back to meet Pradeep. On our way we met a tour guide who talked with us a while and also warned us of bears that lived in the area; treading carefully down the dark road heading toward the first lookout we visited, a car suddenly came speeding around the bend. Ankit and Ashu recognized it as Pradeep; as he pulled up beside us, some conversation went on in Hindi and Ankit/Ashu urged me to hop in quickly. After more rapid Hindi conversation in the car, and a very anxious Pradeep, Ashu filled me in that evidently Pradeep was awoken from his slumber by the pounding of a bear on the car door. The bear’s face was right there on the window next to him; he quickly started the car and drove away but the bear was in pursuit and was still following him when he met us. He was pretty shaken up about it and was ready to leave.

We decided to stop and get food outside Mount Abu because it would be less expensive. I was feeling sort of ill and tired at that time, so I wasn’t as excited to eat as I usually was. It was fun though to see the cook making the food right in front of us, and we ate on weaved cots that are common in Rajasthan. Indian food really is in so many ways a conglomeration; the cook had an assortment of spices and vegetables in front of him and after firing up the gas heater, would throw into the pan some oil, garlic, spices (a little of this, a pinch of that), water, and vegetables and bam--you’d have a veg curry gravy ready to eat with roti.

We had to also stop and get our spare tire fixed because we had a puncture on our way up Mount Abu. This had also happened with Ashu’s motorcycle in Jaipur the day before (caused by a pin needle); basically you have to take the circular rubber tube (that holds the air) out of the tire, find the puncture, and glue on a sticky patch before putting it back in the tire and reinflating it. The car tire involved more time with an electrical heater and a press, and we were on our way to Jaisalmer at about 11 pm.

I was out like a light under my bed sheet and with my inflatable pillow and slept until we stopped to see the clear sunrise over the desert. To readjust I sat on the floor and stretched my legs out, leaning my upper body sideways over the seat. We had finally made it to Rajasthan’s famous desert, the Thar Desert, which India shares with Pakistan. We actually also saw an military outpost with artillery stationed, not poised and ready for action but just being stored in case they were needed later on. We also passed by the first place where India had tested an atomic bomb, a suitable location due to the open space and low nearby population.

So we made it to Jaisalmer (west end of Rajasthan) that morning and first decided on finding out what options we had to go on a camel safari. I had read about them in the Lonely Planet and thought it’d be the coolest thing. That’s a popular thing to do in Jaisalmer and there are many people to go through. Options included a late afternoon safari and dinner followed by a music and dance performance to a half month trek to the other side of the state. We thought our best option was an operator that would take us to a less-touristy part of the desert that late afternoon, offer dinner and beds on the dunes that evening, and breakfast and lunch the next day along with more safari over the dunes.

The operator was really up-front with us; he told us exactly what we were getting and promised to deliver it, but nothing more. He was really practical about the whole situation and didn’t try to enamor us with bonuses and talk about how good of a deal it was. That to me was more trustworthy than some of the other operators who would go on with promises that although can be enticing, are more likely to be lies. I could tell he was pretty seasoned too; he had dealt with many customers, and he upfront told us that he didn’t like that there were Indians in my group. I’ve had this happen before, encounter an Indian who only prefers to deal with foreigners I mean. I guess he was fed up with how Indians tend to demand so much or always seem to be dissatisfied with the service. Maybe it’s that a foreigner is going to be ‘wowed’ more easily whereas a native Indian knows more what to expect. Whatever the reason, he was only offering us his program because I was a foreigner; if I were an Indian, he wouldn’t have even considered us. Ankit was disappointed that I wasn’t going to see a ‘traditional’ Rajasthani dance or music, but I tried to explain to him that I didn’t need to. It seemed too touristy and additionally such things would be being performed outside of their original element. Such music and dance wasn’t meant to be performed in that way and in such a sense isn’t an authentic interpretation.

Ankit was one of those Indians who was so intent on me having the best time and enjoying everything to the fullest. It’s a nice idea but was really wearing on me after a while. Try to imagine constantly being asked if you’re having a good time or not, being asked whether it was the right decision to do what we were doing, or watching helplessly as he would complain in Hindi to someone that the food or service wasn’t good enough (because he was trying to give me the best experience). Yeah. Really annoying. He didn’t speak much English either, and so it was difficult for me to explain to him that I liked to take everything for what it was and not try to judge it. Anything, good or bad, can be enjoyed and at the least forms part of a unique experience that in itself is very valuable. All this also means that I’m constantly watching how I’m behaving. If Ankit’s happiness is based on whether or not I’m “enjoying” myself, then I feel the need to at the least put on a happy face. You can’t experience something fully if you’re concerned about that. Because I’m already sensitive to the way people perceive me, it was a problem, but I tried my best to focus on what we were visiting and not whether or not I was looking excited the whole time. It was also tiring having to repeat myself so many times. It’s not his fault that he can’t understand me well, but even still there’s nothing more frustrating than when you have to repeat yourself over and over, already tired and with patience that has worn thin. I also couldn’t understand him very well at all, and because Pradeep only spoke Hindi, most of the conversation that went down was in Hindi. With me idle on the side. That’s fine, I mean when that’s your medium, things are communicated the best and most efficiently that way, but it also meant that I spent a lot of time not knowing what was going on. It was then up to Ashu to translate.

Ashu was a trooper the whole time, I could imagine how much mental pressure that would put on him, constantly juggling so many things at once, but he remained level-headed and positive all the while; he fortunately was a really good communicator in each language. He was also suffering a great deal with a problem that he’s been facing. He had lent one of his friends (Virad, living in Delhi, who I also met in Goa) rs.10,000 a while ago to help him pay for his friend’s mom’s medical condition or something. Ashu was positive that Virad would repay him within a month, but that was two and a half months ago and, as you guessed, Virad didn’t hold up his end. The problem is that Ashu initially asked his other friend in Jaipur for the money to give to Virad in the first place. His other friend was getting angrier and angrier that Ashu wasn’t paying him back, but he had no means to. He didn’t want to go to his family to get it because he was afraid they would get really upset, but his other friend was threatening to tell his parents anyway. Ashu was on the phone a great deal during our trip trying to pacify things, check his bank account to see if Virad had deposited the money, and trying to call Virad to urge him to pay up, although Virad less-than-frequently answered. Virad is also going through a death in the family and other issues…that’s actually the reason why he additionally didn’t come with us on this trip. I could tell it was really taxing on him trying to juggle all these things (we all hadn’t been sleeping enough either) as well as enjoy his vacation and limited time with the exciting friend who had flown all the way from Hyderabad to visit. It certainly took a great deal of endurance on his part, and I saluted his levelheadedness throughout the whole thing.

After booking the safari (rs.700 each, something like $15) we spent the afternoon visiting the famous Jaisalmer fort. Let me take a second to tell you how Jaisalmer is my favorite city I’ve ever seen. First of all, it’s entirely made of sandstone, all the buildings, homes, even the streets: they’re not paved but made of sandstone brick. All of it blends in with the surrounding desert; it really is like a sandcastle town. If Jaipur is the “pink city,” this was certainly the “golden city.” Additionally there were vibrant colors everywhere; there were SO many colorful things on display, including scarves, saris, blankets, and wall hangings. I’ve seen a lot of color, and this takes the cake. The fort rises up in the center of the city; from anywhere you can usually get a glimpse of at least one of its hundred bastions. Four thousand people actually live inside the fort; it’s been entirely converted into a residential area, and people actually live in the towers (now homes) that used to defend the fort. It unfortunately wasn’t made for the sewage systems (running in gutters on street-sides) that had to be installed, and as a result is slowly falling apart. Some of the bastions have collapsed and the fort’s on an “endangered monument” list. The damage gave it an even more weathered look, as if it were one of my actual sandcastles at the beach that is slowly being damaged by winds as it continues to bake and dry in the harsh sun. So awesome. The streets were narrow and winded around every which way; there was no room for large trucks and buses and additional development.

Inside the fort we hired a guide who showed us around the Jain temple inside (entirely sandstone with ridiculously intricate carvings, sandstone is soft enough for such detail) as well as a haveli. There are several famous havelis in Jaisalmer; they were merchants’ homes during the time of the silk trade prosperity. These merchants would accumulate enormous wealth in their trades and could build enormous, intricately-carved homes with lavish artwork etc. inside as a result.

For lunch we ate at a restaurant famous for its thalis, or all-you-can eat platters of various food assortments, usually including dal, rice or roti, curd, pickle, and different curries. I had a Rajasthani-themed thali; it additionally consisted of a shredded flavorful vegetable dish and also this gravy with buttery balls of a kind of wheat or cornmeal. Whatever it was, it was delicious, and I had no problem taking full advantage of the ‘all-you-can-eat’ advantage to the thali.

At 2:30 we met up with our camel safari operator who we followed in his jeep (carrying other foreigners) to a site with ancient sandstone graves and temples outside the city. We then continued for about 40 km into the desert, and after arriving at the destination, meeting our guide, and waiting for our camels, we were off past a small village and into the desert.

Camels are funny animals. First of all, they’re actually really large; I guess I never really quite knew until I had the chance to stand next to one of the beasts. They can smell pretty bad sometimes, and they make this grunt that’s identical to how you would imagine a dinosaur to sound. I’ll imitate it for you later. They have this smug look on their face; their mouths constantly have this pursed smile, and with their eyes half-mast, it looks like they’re wearing this pompous “I’m better than you” look. They’re pretty inert, it takes some shouting and tugging to get them to stand up or sit down. It looks like either standing or sitting though takes a substantial amount of work; they have a lot of weight to hall! Getting on the back isn’t hard (they had a cushioned saddle on each one), but as it would stand, I learned to brace myself. First it straightens up its back legs and unless you lean completely back, you’ll be kicked foreword and off the camel’s back. Same thing when he sits down. They move pretty slowly, and I imagine it would take ages to travel all the way to China or elsewhere on them like in the Silk Road days. A rope is tied to iron nostril piercings they have up their noses for steering or coercion to move. Mine didn’t like to be pet, he’d give me a nasty look and turn his head when I reached toward him. I guess I wouldn’t necessarily like to own one, but it was sure a blast to ride one for a few days.

As we were venturing through the dunes on our safaris, with the sun beating down, the faint jingle of the bells around the camels’ necks, and dry waving dunes far into the distance, I also was listening to music on my ipod that actually specifically reminds me of the desert, including the soundtracks from “The Mummy” and “The Mummy Returns.” We made a stop to run around on the dunes and watch the sunset. The sand of the dunes is so fine that it’s like dust, and when you run over them your feet sink into them up to above your ankles; it practically flows like water. There were also these big black beetles crawling around that reminded me of scarabs.

After seeing the sunset, we went to the site where we were to sleep for the night. In a valley of the dunes, there was a spot of four cots set up for us; we could see only a few other sites where others were staying and in the distance a small village of a few huts where our guide lived. The food our guide made us was tasty and just what the operator promised (in addition to bottled water). The cots were extremely comfortable; thick blankets and pillows were also provided (a good thing too because it gets crisp in the night). As we sunk into our beds, a full view of the black sky lit with stars was on display above; such an awesome sight to fall asleep to.

I awoke the next morning to the tinkle of camel bells, and by the time I arose our guide had prepared chai, toast, hard-boiled eggs, and bananas for us. I went to go meet our guide’s family at the nearby village. Their huts are made of mixtures of dried camel dung and sand with a roof weaved of long leaves.

That day we set out again for more dunes, stopping at the best places along the way to enjoy them. By around noon, we stopped one last time to prepare lunch. I helped gather firewood and Ankit helped cook; there were plenty of tumbleweeds around which ignited really easily to start our fire. Our dish was prepared by mixing various spices in a bath of water and oil and stirring in chopped potato and cauliflower. Also our dishes were cleaned using sand. We also ‘washed’ our hands with sand; it’s funny how the prevalence of sand and the scarcity of water prompted sand to become a new medium for all kinds of things.

Back in Jaisalmer we spent the afternoon roaming around the city some more, and I stopped into a few shops to buy some things. The venders I met were hard bargainers and would shoo you out if you were asking for prices that were too low. We checked to see that evening if my favorite thali place was open, but they weren’t serving dinner until 7, so we decided to head back to Jaipur and eat in Jodhpur along the way.

Jodhpur has some famous sites to see as well, but unfortunately we had no time to stay and only got to see its large fort from a distance in the night. We stopped at a roadside restaurant again, this one was even less accustomed to foreigners and the few Indians that were there spent their time staring at me blankly. An SIP student in Hyderabad has a friend who is volunteering near Jodhpur; she’s the only foreigner in her group and has been really uncomfortable in public. People will congregate around her to stare, and she literally has to push her way past them to get anywhere. Once she went to a musical performance and the whole show stopped because she entered and everyone was distracted. At first being stared at is funny, but at that level it’s extremely rude; the people who stare mustn’t be able to understand how inconsiderate it is, and I can easily imagine her intense discomfort.

After dinner, we all piled into the car and continued to head home, hoping to reach Jaipur in the morning. I was awoken from my sleep by distant agitated discussion. The car was also stopped; although we stopped sometimes to go to the bathroom or for my friends to smoke, there was never commotion to go along with it. Through my half-opened eyes I saw Ankit and Pradeep outside by the driver side door talking with a policeman. The tense discussion lasted a few more seconds and then was temporarily halted as the policeman slapped Pradeep across the face. Hard. I nudged Ashu awake to try to figure out what was going on. He slapped Pradeep again after the argument picked back up. As I grew more and more worried and confused, the officer took both Ankit and Pradeep by the arm and marched away into the blackness ahead.

Ashu overheard that evidently they had attempted to pick up some fruit that had fallen off of a truck and that’s why they were being apprehended. My jaw continued to remain dropped as the time passed, and I wondered if it was legitimate to ask myself in the back of my head if I’d ever see my friends again. Who knows, I mean I’ve never been in a situation like that and it just felt like I was in some terrifying movie or something. I’m glad Ashu was there, because he didn’t seem to get too worked up about it and assured me they’d be back soon; I remained calm. The three of them came back about 15 minutes later, seemingly fine. The officer wanted to know who Ashu and I were; as I stepped out of the car I could see the fruit truck behind us, some of its cargo scattered about the road. I showed him my university student ID card and gave him a strong stink eye. He didn’t scare me and I was beyond pissed that he was treating us this way. After he verified our identities we climbed back in the car and after they talked in Hindi, I asked to know what actually happened. Pradeep and Ankit had indeed stopped to take some fruit that had fallen from the truck, it was dirty anyway and unlikely to be salvaged from the driver. The officer had been so angry because he suspected us of attempting to rob the truck and take crates of its cargo. Only after he had assuredly identified us as students did he believe our claims of defense and let us go, surprisingly even without a bribe. Pradeep and Ankit seemed unaffected by it; I sat in the back angry at the blatant injustice that the officer had exercised, every time I cross paths with the police (in Goa, at the airport, etc.) I get more and more frustrated with them. The way this situation played out certainly was a testament to a ‘guilty until proven innocent’ mentality.

It was nice to be back in Jaipur; pulling up to Ashu’s house the next morning felt in a way like I was returning home. I was excited to get out of the car and have a place to stretch out and relax. Ashu’s mom was equally as excited to greet us and whipped up some more aloo paratha and curd. As I bathed and changed clothes, the family caught each other up on their travels in Hindi, and as I returned back to the living room, Ashu’s mom asked me what time it was in Hindi. She loved asking me what time it was and hearing me respond in Hindi; she must have done that dozens of times during my stay there.

There were more places in Jaipur to see, including an old observatory and the city palace. Ankit, Ashu and I headed back into the city and after parking and enjoying some popularly vended drinks made of lime, ice, salt, and lemon soda (a fascinating cross between sweet, salty, and tart tastes) we started to head toward the observatory, Jantar Mantar.

Jantar Mantar houses many old devices that used to be utilized to tell time and measure the position of various heavenly bodies. Ashu and I were having a discussion side by side as we were nearing the gate when he was suddenly interrupted and yanked backward. Startled, I turned to see what had happened, and you could have guessed that there was a scowling police officer facing us. He suspected my friends to be illegal guides; usually social groups consist of either Indians or foreigners, and a mix means that the foreigner could be getting a ‘tour’ without paying government regulated tour guide fees. This has happened before (Ankit and Ashu have been questioned whether or not they were licensed guides when seen with me), but usually it’s not very involved; this officer unfortunately wasn’t budging even after we showed him our student identity cards and I solidly claimed that were all just friends. At first he was going to let us go in, but under the condition that we wouldn’t talk to each other inside. Realizing that he had no way of knowing that would be upheld, he denied either me or both Ankit and Ashu entrance. They insisted that I go see the observatory, and they were going to wait for me outside. There was nothing left to do but shoot the officer another one of my pissed looks of frustration and leave the situation behind as it was. Whatever, I guess he’s just doing his job.

The observatory had many sun dials in it as well as other curious structures. The largest dial was stories high; a dial is basically a large triangle with its hypotenuse lined up with the planet’s axis and a surrounding half circle that’s parallel to the equator. The sun casts a shadow over the hypotenuse onto the circle which tells the time; the largest one was so accurate and sensitive that it could tell the time down to the half second. I was going to hire a guide through Jantar Mantar, but it probably would have taken too long and I didn’t want to keep Ankit and Ashu waiting. I also stopped by the city palace on the way back; the foreigner fee was rs.300 and I wasn’t excited about that. I had seen enough palaces anyway, so I continued on to meet up with them and figure out where we were eating lunch.

We decided to head back to Ashu’s home, it was their neighbor’s son’s birthday and they wanted to have me as a guest. It was a lot of fun; lots of laughing and really good food, including a delicious peanut chutney. After, we needed to decide what was going to happen that evening. It was the first day of the Diwali festival, and initially we had planned on me heading to Ankit’s house about 60 km away, but we didn’t know if it’d be easy to transport me back and forth in time for my flight that was leaving the next morning at 6. Also Ashu’s dad claimed traveling like that on Diwali unsafe, evidently sometimes crackers can be jokingly but dangerously thrown motorcycles driving by. Although I would have like to meet Ankit’s family/friends and see his home, I really liked Ashu’s family who wanted me to stay and celebrate as well. Honestly also Ankit was grinding my gears with regard to what I mentioned earlier. Plus Jaipur city was supposed to be really beautiful that night, completely decorated with all the lights. Ankit decided that it’d be best if we all stayed there; he also opted to remain with us and travel home for the holiday the day after. A perfect compromise.

As soon as we were decided, Ashu’s Dad rushed me in the car and we went into town to buy sweets, vegetables for dinner, and more sweets. Diwali sure is a festival of sweets; we got boxes and boxes of gulab jamun, all kinds of barfis, chum chum, and various other colorful sugary edibles that we either would give away to friends or store at home for personal consumption. Ankit also went to purchase some fireworks as I helped Ashu’s mom decorate the house. Pradeep had already put up strings of colorful lights all around, and my job was to place the lamps in intervals on all the walls, steps, and ledges of the house. Diwali lamps are small terra cotta clay cups that are filled with oil and have a string wick that burns like a candle. Dozens and dozens were prepared, and you practically didn’t need electric lights to see around the house with them all lit.

Afterwards, Ashu wanted to go to the nearby barber to get shaved before the festivities began. I really needed to be shaved as well, and after seeing myself in the barber’s mirror I realized that my wild hair was way too out of control. The last time I cut it was before coming to India, so I guess it was high time for another one, and what better time than now? The barber was pretty excited about my hair and said he was giving me his specialty cut; it didn’t turn out half bad. Also the shaving was fun; I’ve never been shaved with a single knife-like blade before. He also unexpectedly sprayed my face with water and slapped on some aftershave. The whole deal was about $3.

Back at home, Ankit had returned with crackers, and we all did a puja at the shrine in Ashu’s room (consisting of lots of Rajasthani chanting/singing etc.). After having appetizers of soda, papad (large chips), and sweets, we all headed up to the rooftop to light our fireworks.

By that time it was dark and the city was in its full-fledged celebration mode. You could see rooftops extending for quite some distance, and in any direction you’d look there would be flashings or sparks or rockets being set off into the air. The city sounded like it was legitimately under attack, the crackers sounded like machine guns and the bombs sounded like…well, bombs exploding. Such commotion lasted well into the night and only dwindled by midnight. We lit many-cone shaped fireworks that would spray showers of sparks into the air and sometimes would explode at the end. We also had bombs specifically meant to explode in a deafening, blinding flash that left your ears ringing. Ankit and Ashu lit them like crazy, I could never quite tell which kind was being lit or where it was located precisely; that made most of the explosions really shocking.

Ashu’s mom and sister stayed standing on the side. I mostly opted for that too; the area we were lighting those crackers was like a minefield. Plus sometimes you’d light something and even though the sparking wick would burn all the way down, it wouldn’t set off and you were left wondering what to do. I uncomfortably watched as each time that happened Ankit or Ashu would try to relight it. Once a bomb went off while Ashu was leaning down to light it; I started freaking out, but Ashu stood up with a bright smile on his face chuckling and tapping his ears, temporarily deafened by the blast. Whatever floats your boat.

On the street below everyone was setting crackers off too; mostly kids were lighting them with their parents either watching from the house or absent altogether. Once, Ankit shot off a rocket that we poised in a plastic bottle. It was supposed to explode in the air, but we watched its flame rise and then fall straight back down, landing smack on our neighbor’s rooftop. Half a second later there was a huge burst of fiery red sparks that erupted in a sphere rising up from the rooftop, all around the nearby wooden furniture and clothes hanging to dry. Our family seemed alarmed for a brief while, but quickly decided it was no big deal, and we continued to set off more.

After we had had our fill of setting them off for the time being, Ashu, Ankit, and I walked around the town to various friends’ houses to visit briefly. On the streets there was a smoky haze that hovered from the aftermath of the first few hours of celebration. You’d be walking along and suddenly there’d be a huge blast and flash a few meters away from an unknown cracker that had been lit. Immediately after there’d be a sparking rocket shoot past you horizontally and crash into the side of the house wall at the other end of the street. It was all so exciting and unpredictable, you never quite knew when or from where you’d be stunned with a flash and blast next. Kids were running around screaming and giggling in the streets which were lit like day with the thousands of lamps and colorful lights that decorated the nearby houses.

Back at the house we had dinner and discussions about how cool Diwali was, followed by more talking well into the night until Ashu’s mom and Kushboo were the only ones awake. I slowly faded until it was physically impossible for me continue conversation, and Ashu’s mom insisted that I rest. I slept only an hour or two before I was up to shower and get ready to leave for my flight that left at 6 am. Ashu’s sleepy eyed family awoke themselves to bid me a warm farewell and insisted that I come back to visit again.

On the way to the airport Ashu mentioned his money issue again. I had already decided that I wouldn’t be lending him his deficit. He had also told me that Virad had borrowed money from him before and not returned it. Ironically Ashu didn’t seem upset at Virad about the whole situation, he was most concerned about getting the money back to his other friend and repaying his debt. I’d trust Ashu, but I didn’t trust Virad’s word and if that’s where Ashu was waiting for repayment, I wasn’t about to become another spoke in the wheel. If I lent Ashu money, he would continue to be the middle man and he’d just be transferring his debt to someone else. Plus, how he would return money to me didn’t feel like an easy process; it was time for Ashu to confront his parents with the issue, despite their impending disappointment, and ask them for help. Indians I’ve noticed are extremely invested in their parent’s best interest; none of my friends at Hyderabad will ask for money from their parents either, even if they have barely enough to buy food.

Explaining my thoughts to Ashu and wishing him luck, I said my goodbyes to Ankit and Ashu and headed into the airport to board the plane. Security again went through all my stuff. They found a small metal musical instrument I had bought from Jaisalmer and threw it away; I should have realized they wouldn’t allow that, no big deal though. I don’t even remember the flight; I was out like a light until we reached Hyderabad at about 8 in the morning.

I only had rs.150 left in my wallet and unfortunately the bus ticket back was also exactly rs.150; that would leave no money to take me back to the university by rickshaw. Fortunately I also saw that for rs.120 I could take another bus to Medhiputnam from where (given I could find the bus stop) I could take a city bus back to the university for only rs.6. There’s no way to get to or from the airport for cheaper than that! Fortunately it worked out fine and I was back in my room at the university at 10:30 am, without any rats to greet me either to boot. With no droppings on my bed, it sure was an exciting opportunity to be able to fall right asleep, scenes from last night’s celebration still flashing in my mind.