December 26, 2011 - Wedding Day

On the way from the hotel, where we are still amused that the elevator says "Floor 3" as it delivers us to room 410, I stop at the tailor's.  My suit is mostly made, and a final fitting is quite comfortable.  He is a good tailor, and no changes need to be made.  However, he does have to finish up a few things, so I'll have to return later in the day.

Ankita, in white shawl, gets her bangles on

At the Jains', Ankita is receiving her bangles. Her mother's family has selected the jewelry, and her mother's brother supervises the activity.  Each bracelet is dipped in a mix of water and milk to purify it.  The bangles are slipped over her lotioned knuckles until they fill the space between her wrist and elbow.  Tradition dictates that the bangles will remain on her arm for fifteen months, or until she is pregnant, whichever comes first.  Even while taking showers, the bangles would remain on.




It's time for me to take another taxi ride to my tailor and back.  The suit is ready, and I'm back to the Jains' house.

J.D. is ready

Lindy in sari, Andrew and Bob in hats

Everyone is getting their finery on.  Women are having their saris fitted and hair done at the local community center.  J.D. has a full-length royal suit.  His hat takes a while to arrange.  Not only must all the folds of fabric be neat, but strings of pearls must be tied just so.  A huge doubled florette of folded rupees is placed around his neck and hangs down his chest.

Meanwhile the band plays on ... (see video)  The "Maharajah Band" plays music outside the front door of the house while the wedding party gets prepared to depart.  Finally, we are ready and board a bus which is driven to the Siddhartha Resort, all of which has been reserved for tonight's festivities.  By the time Lindy and I get off the bus, J.D. has already been boosted up to the top of a robed and painted elephant, which is elegantly walking to the resort entrance.  When we finally enter the grounds, we see dozens of stands preparing various food treats.  Waiters cruise the crowd offering drinks (all non-alcoholic) and finger foods.  Plates full of delectables are available on the perimeter, tables are scattered around and seats are arranged in rows before an elevated front stage where J.D. now reclines luxuriously on a huge couch.  After many pictures are taken, Ankita arrives, walking elegantly despite her 40 pounds of dress, bangles and jewelry.  Several men carry a roof of butterfly tied fabric above her as she walks.  She joins J.D. on the stage, where they drape each other with colorful leis.  The holy man with long white hair has them repeat phrases in English that he composes with inspiration on the spot.  J.D. is reminded that he can only succeed and be happy by making Ankita successful and happy.  This is about the only part of tonight's ceremony that reminds me of a classical American church wedding.  The vows do not last long.  Then friends and family take their turns on the stage for picture opportunities.  This lasts about an hour.  A dance floor next to the stage lights up and the DJ starts playing music.  The dance routines that some of the wedding party has been practicing are performed to the cheers of the crowd.  Arun takes a turn with Renu to thunderous applause.  J.D. and Ankita have a Bollywood take on romance as he approaches her, but she pushes him away, until their mutual love overcomes all resistance.

The dance floor is thrown open to the public at large, munching continues, but by midnight the party has moved inside to yet another set of food delights, including desserts.  A long table seats the wedding party, who are served several courses of food.  Andrew shaves his mustache off after pulling off a trick on his friend J.D. that he promised almost a decade earlier.  Isa is happier to have him clean-shaven.  Lindy, Bob and I finally leave around 2:00 am, so we miss seeing a fire into which things are thrown - probably burning old attachments and permitting the wedding to progress unsullied by the past - however, I may be making up the significance of the fire.

December 25, 2011 - Jain service and Dancing

Ankita Jain and J.D. Rosensweig

There's always a lot happening with the Jains' these days.  Here it is the day before the main wedding.  In the morning, it's only a few blocks' walk to the local temple where the new couple will devote their lives to each other in a Jain ceremony.  However, those few blocks include a few turns on unmarked streets and Arun is eager not to lose anybody to the vagaries of the road intersections.  We drive to the ceremony.  Inside, the women are seated on the right and the men on the left.  Most people sit cross-legged on the floor, although there are a few chairs along the walls for anyone who doesn't want to sit on the floor.  Sammi, Ankita's sister, married Anuj recently but didn't have the temple ceremony at that time, so they are sharing the ceremony with J.D. and Ankita.  The Jain religion places "ahimsa" (harmlessness to all living beings) as a top tenet of their beliefs.  During the ceremony itself, the participants wear masks over their mouths to avoid injuring any bugs by accidentally swallowing them.  The ceremony includes offerings to the gods, and to their promises to respect and serve each other.  The language is (I presume) in Hindi, and the service is beautiful.  After the formal ceremony, we are given some very tasty treats - sort of an assembled bun with a sweet filling.  Greeting and friendly visiting is followed by a ride back to the house.

Isa Escobar and Andrew Smith

Lindy Horwitz

Later in the evening, the wedding party and other guests are invited over to the basement of the local hostel.  It has been set up with numerous food offerings around the walls, and an area in the front for dancing.  Chairs for comfortable viewing and visiting abound.  Guests arrive in their colorful finery, though the saris will appear mostly tomorrow. Venerated grandmothers sing party songs for the gathering (see video).  Dances start taking place with mostly the young, but a couple of over-sixty gentleman start chest-bumping, much to the astonished amusement of at least one young boy.  Yes, folks, this started with my brother Bob, always enthusiastic to try something new, suggesting we chest-bump.  It's a new thing for the both of us, but after a little planning to make sure we don't also head-bump, we try it.  Since it succeeds, we end up trying it several more times.  It reminds me of yesterday when we entertained the ladies trapped by their drying henna with a reprisal of the dance moves of "Desi Boyz."  Our enthusiasm makes up for our lack of skill. (See video, filmed by Andrew on Bob's iPhone.)

December 24, 2011 - Henna Day

I'm off in the morning with my driver to get my suit ready.  The wedding is in two days, but Arun insists it can be done.  First thing in the morning, I'm at the shop where you buy the material for a suit.  Bob comes with me for the experience and offers some good advice (mostly reassuring me that what I like looks good).  I buy some wool, which as it happens, comes from Scotland.  Then it's a quick walk across the street to the tailor, whose father worked in the same place and son is already in training.  After a few questions - one hip pocket or two, how many suit buttons - at which I mostly go along with his advice, he takes a flurry of measurements and tells me to pick it up in two days.  I later tell Arun, who calls to make sure it will really be ready in time for the wedding.



On the way back, we pass by a giant statue of Ganesh.  This becomes a landmark.  The standard way to get to Arun's from most other places involves driving on one side of a highway, then crossing over at the Ganesh statue, and heading back the other way.







Today is the henna day.  For almost twelve hours, four men apply henna to all the women in the party and a few of the men (at least, to the back of Bob's hand).  Ankita, of course, gets the most attention and the most detailed henna work - not only on her arms, but also on her feet and calves.

Lindy gets henna'ed as well.  (See the video.)  After the henna is applied, the women can't really do much of anything but sit three hours while it dries.  Then some lemon juice and sugar is added to help it set better.  Another hour of drying is followed by removing the dried henna, leaving the stain underneath to decorate the arm. I help Lindy, using the blade and back side of a butter knife to scrape off the blackened henna.  Lindy is warned to leave her arms and hands unwashed for 48 hours.  We both know that's not going to happen.  She gamely tries to avoid the use of a lot of water for a while though, and it's enough for the henna to remain visible for two weeks.

Lemon juice and sugar added

Lindy after henna is scraped off

In the evening, Lindy and Bob and I choose not to attend the nightly dance practices, so we won't be displaying our Bollywood talents on wedding night.

December 23, 2001 - Arrival in Ludhiana

At long last, we are off to Ludhiana, to participate in the extended wedding of J.D. Rosensweig and Ankita Jain that brought us to India in the first place.

We have a fairly leisurely time to breakfast and pack before being driven to the Jaipur airport.  There we take an Air India flight to Chandigarh.  (Although there is an airport in Ludhiana, there are many more flights available to Chandigarh, which is not so far away.)  In Chandigarh, we are picked up by Mr. Kamal.  I call Arun, Ankita's father, to tell him we are on the way to our hotel, but he is eager to greet us as soon as we can get to town.  I instruct the driver to take us directly to Arun's house, and he does so.  We have our first introduction to directions in Ludhiana.  Most addresses just specify a number and an area.  Many of the streets have no names.  Directions often include references such as "near such-and-so school."  Our driver has the address and a few things to ask about, so once he gets close to Arun's area of the city, he starts seeking directions - talking to someone on a motorcycle caught in the traffic beside him, or someone selling vegetables by the roadside. 

Eventually we arrive at Arun's house where we are warmly greeted and introduced to a burgeoning household of relatives and friends.  We are served good home cooking, and begin to get used to a daily regimen of breakfast, lunch and dinner interspersed with snacks.  Arun asks how our travels have been up to now and I am able to give him a better idea of our satisfaction than I was able to get across in our daily phone calls.  Renu, his wife, is gracious.  We meet more people than I can name here today, including; Anita, a good friend of Andrew's from Cincinnati; Hank and Pat who are staying at the same hotel as Bob, Lindy and me.  Andrew and Isa will be staying at a nearby hostel.  Adam and Kelly are young Americans with their own wedding plans.  Ashima is one of Ankita's aunts.  We meet Nada and her daughter Serena, Sammi and Anusch, Sophie and Matt, Jessica and others.

After much visiting and a great dinner, particularly paan fresh off the griddle, we manage to book a taxi willing to come out to the house and drive us to the hotel.  (Or maybe this was one of the evenings when a friend of Arun's generously drove us.)

December 22, 2011 - Jaipur

Amar Singh, our guide today, says that there are 1200 castes in the Hindi religion.  The Brahmans (priests and philosophers) hold the highest caste, followed by the Rajput (warriors), the Vaisia (merchants and businessmen) and the Sudra (the largest community with many sub-castes).  The Singh ("lion") last name of our guide places him in the warrior caste.

He explains further that it is the Hindi custom for a wife of an upper class marriage not to ever show her face to adult men other than her husband.  Amar has had an arranged marriage, but his father has never seen the face of Amar's wife.

He points out several women in town and identifies their jobs by the colors of their dress.

Although salaries seem very low to us for many of the jobs, Amar points out that vegetables are inexpensive, only about 10 Rupees for a kilogram.  (This comes to about a dime a pound, in U.S. terms.)




Jaipur is known as the Pink City, because of the pink colors of much of its architecture, including the Hawa Mahal, which we pass frequently though do not tour.  It has 300 windows and is also known as the Wind Palace.

Our first main tour is of the Jaipur Fort.  This begins with elephant rides for all of us.  Lindy and I ride on "Lakshmi", a name I wrest with some difficulty from our uncommunicative mahout (elephant driver).

In the courtyard where we arrive with our elephants, a mother monkey scampers across the bulwarks with its baby hugging on securely.  Bob is soon swarmed by a group of students eager to add his signature to their books.  We take a tour of the castle to see some of the luxury in which royalty lived.  Amar, enthused by Andrew and Isa's obvious affection and the tale of their upcoming betrothal, regales Isa with stories of how one window in the fort is where the wife would dutifully await her husband's return, so she could shower him with rose petals as he enters the palace.

A mirrored room, meant to catch and reflect sunlight or lit lamps, gives me an opportunity to catch Andrew in a fun photo.

A covered small room on the roof has a wide view of the terrain below, and the garden.  It was a favorite place to listen to the rain.






Back in town, Andrew and Isa get their chance to ride a camel.

A visit to the astronomy/astrology site Jantar Mantar gives us a chance to see some unusual architecture.  A staircase to heaven serves as a giant gnomon, casting the sun's shadow onto an inscribed arc that measures time to an accuracy of a few seconds.  Other displays are devoted to showing the position of the sun in the Zodiac, and separate structures for examining each of the sign's influences.



Nearby Jantar Mantar, we visit the City Palace.  A covered pavilion in the central courtyard is sometimes rented out to wedding parties.  For a mere 2 lakh (about $4,000 USD), your wedding party of 200 will be amply fed and a palatial setting provided for your wedding.  Andrew has a picture taken of him wearing the cape of Rajasthani royalty.  With his curled mustache, he looks the part.

December 21, 2011 - Fatehpur Sikri

This morning we went upstairs to breakfast in the hotel restaurant which has a view of the Taj Mahal across the river.  But not today - the fog obliterates the view completely, and nothing outside is visible except the white blanket of low-lying clouds.

It's time to check out of the hotel, but the elevator is reluctant to let Bob go.  The door closes on him, but won't reopen nor will the elevator travel downstairs.  Andrew valiantly tries to force the door open, but can't do so even with my half-hearted help.  Aid comes in the form of a key that opens the door from outside, and we ride the other elevator down instead.

After an hour's drive, we arrive at Fatehpur Sikri, the "ghost city" built by Emperor Akbar.  Our guide seems quite knowledgable and leads a good tour, starting with a crowded tuk-tuk ride to the site.  Akbar was very ecumenical in his beliefs.  He married three principle wives, one Christian from Portuguese Goa, one Hindi and one Muslim.  From his appreciation of all religions, he proposed his own to include the faiths of all others.  Regrettably, this even-handed approach did not gain popularity, and his own religion lasted all of fourteen days, according to the guide.

Eager to treat his three wives equally, he offered to spend the same of money on separate homes for each of them.  The Hindi wife chose a very large house, simply furnished.  The Christian wife chose a small house which was decorated with a gold door and semi-precious stones in the carving.  The Muslim wife chose something in between (which was "just right" for Goldilocks - oops, wrong story).

A broad pavilion is laid out with a parcheesi board.  In the center of it is a platform used by the Emperor and his feted queen of the day to play a game of parcheesi with servants playing the part of the tokens on the board.  We get a family shot on the central platform.








There were other rooms for secondary wives, and areas for the Emperor to listen to petitioners.  A pool has bridges leading to a center pavilion on which musicians would sit and perform.  A multi-layer house provided views and meeting places.  The "sorceror's house" was built to read fortunes, and used some Jain-style architecture.  The gardens brought an orderly peace to calm the mind, and as at many temples, basil was grown in the center of a broad pavilion.




Though his religious beliefs may have been quite tolerant, Akbar did have a fierce - or perhaps cruelly playful? - sense of justice.  Some criminals were executed by being trampled under the feet of his favorite trained elephant, who was loved enough to have his own minaret built as a memorial.

 Adjoining the city is a mosque, dedicated to the Sufi saint Shaikh Salim Chishti, who correctly predicted that Akbar would father an heir to the throne (something he had frustratingly not yet been able to accomplish).  The mosque is still in use, and sports the highest gate entering any temple in India (according to our guide).   A building housing the Sufi's tomb gives one the chance to tie a red string around the carved window to assure that your wish comes true, particularly if you are a wife hoping for a child.  Lindy is not eager to walk barefoot on this chilly morning, so she guards our shoes while Bob, Andrew, Isa and I indulge in the mosque tour.

Continuing on toward Jaipur, we see a lot of evidence of a thriving business in gathering and drying cow patties for fuel.  Our driver Manoj points out Albert Hall and the statue of Jai Singh, the founder of Jaipur, on the way to Hotel Clarks Amer.



Lonely Planet has described the lovely Raj Mandir as India's most colorful theatre, so we take our driver to the movies and watch the first half of "Desi Boyz".  The audience claps and cheers along with the Indian stars trying to make a living in Britain, while romancing their women, all with much singing and dancing.  The art deco walls and ceilings delight us.  After the show, Bob checks out the menu at a nearby McDonald's.  They have chicken, cheese (paneer) and vege burgers, but no beef.

December 20, 2011 - Agra and Taj Mahal

It's a Tuesday, and we are off to see the Taj Mahal.  On the drive to Agra from New Delhi, we see monkeys and a few green parrots.

In Agra, we get our first sight of the Taj Mahal from across the river.  It shimmers evanescently behind the fog.  About a week ago, the fog was so bad for days in Northern India that many flights into New Delhi were canceled or re-routed.  Our tour guide, Raj, tells us that a few days ago you couldn't see the Taj Mahal at all until you were almost within reach of it.  It's considerably more visible today, but we still won't have a bright sunset shining on its pure white marble.

First we buy our tickets - 750 Rupees for foreigners and 30 Rupees for Indians.  Then it's a winding path (well, a few paths - foreign women, foreign men, Indian women, Indian men) queuing up to the security checks at the Eastern gate while the monkeys scamper overhead.

Next we walk to another gate through which the Taj Mahal is visible.  It is set on a platform so that nothing is visible behind the monument.  It gives it the appearance of floating in the air.  Four high minarets reach up some distance from each corner, leaning slightly outwards, perhaps to avoid damaging the Taj by hitting it were an earthquake to damage the towers.  Our guide tells us a story about the Shah Jahan planning to build a black marble copy of the Taj Mahal on the other side of the river.  It's a fascinating tale, but Lonely Planet includes it as one of the myths about the Taj.  There is no historical record of such a plan, nor is there any archaeological evidence of any work on such a building.  There is a garden area that was built across the river to afford a beautiful view of the Taj Mahal.  I take lots of photos, including one showing the Taj Mahal reflected in the water.  The marble has carvings of quotes from the Koran, and abstract vines inset with semi-precious stones in the white marble.  To the left of the Taj is a mosque still used for worship.  On the right is an exact copy of the mosque to enhance the symmetry.  The copy is not used for anything in particular.  Entering inside the Taj Mahal requires putting little booties over our shoes, an easier thing than removing our shoes and finding them again later.  Inside the Taj, it is dark and we are rather rushed and crowded to move around the crypts.  As it turns out, these are actually copies of the true graves, which used to be visited in an underground room.  However, that room only had one entrance/exit and little ventilation, so people often fainted for lack of air while confined in the room, unable to exit without difficulty.

We leave the Taj Mahal after dusk.  It is too late to tour the fort as well, and we are a bit tired after the trip.  We check into the four-star Clarks Shiraz where we enjoy a fancy Mughal style dinner.  As Lonely Planet suggested, it is easy to get vegetarian food but difficult to explain the rules of a vegan diet.  Andrew begins honing his skills of explanation.

December 19, 2011 - New Delhi again

Lindy and I have breakfast in the hotel with Bob, Andrew and Isabel Escobar.

Some e-mail messages and phone calls inform us that we need to pay more money to our tour planner.  We shall meet with Ms Sapna Jham in the evening to make another payment.  Bob, Andrew and Isa visit a few places while Lindy and I catch up on e-mail at the hotel, and send out a pile of clothes to be laundered.

We are picked up at the hotel by our group, and head out for lunch at "Chicken Inn".  There is a snake charmer outside entertaining his cobra.

As we are driving along, I am surprised to see several folks charging their cell phones on a highway divider.  I assume they are covertly tapping into the electricity , but the tour guide assures us that they are using outlets provided for the purpose by the government.

We take a tour of Safdarjang Tomb.  This is one of the last examples of Mughal acrhitecture, built in the mid-18th century.  I have seen perhaps a few too many tombs.  They are all nicely and dramatically done with a familiar symmetry of gardens and fountains.

A walk through the shopping bazaar is interesting.  We stop to watch someone make copies of keys.  There is no fancy key duplicating machine.  He uses a file and does it by hand. 











Vegetables are available for prices approximating 25 cents for a kilo.







Regrettably, the qawwali performance we were hoping to attend is only open to the public on Fridays.  It is a bit of our bad luck to be able to tour in New Delhi twice, but both times on Mondays, when many of the major tour sites (including the Red Fort) are closed.  However, we do see a number of places while driving by and getting a running commentary from the guide.

In the evening, Ms Sapna Jham arrives and various phone calls fly back and forth between me, our tour planner Aman Phallar, and Ms Jham.  Bob pulls out piles of American and Indian bills to turn over, which are counted and re-counted until all parties are in agreement.  All of this happens in the hotel bar over a drink or two, but eventually we settle the finances and get back to family camaraderie.

December 18, 2011 - Return to New Delhi

Today we head off from lovely Udaipur back to New Delhi to meet up with my brother Bob Smith, his son (my nephew) Andrew and Andrew's betrothed and lovely friend Isa.

After eating breakfast, packing up and checking out of the hotel, Baba drives us to the Udaipur airport for our flight back to New Delhi.  We have discussed how much to tip him for his six days of driving us.  His story of how little he is paid by the company pulls us in two directions - should we be more generous because it sounds like he is getting what we would consider practically nothing for his efforts, or should we measure our tip in terms of a percentage of his monthly salary instead of in terms of a typical U.S. tip?  In the end, we give him the equivalent of about three weeks of salary, and he seems pleased - though I imagine he would smile no matter what we gave him.  He is a very nice fellow.  Farewell to Udaipur, our delightful room 209, and the pleasant company of "Baba" Singh.



The flight to New Delhi is delayed by about an hour, but we eventually depart without incident.  (I did check my boarding pass, and attached little tickets to Lindy's purse and my packback.)

We arrive in New Delhi about 5:00 pm and are driven into town to stay at the Jay Pee Siddharth hotel with Bob, Andrew and Isa.  We share a dinner together to relate our various stories.  Bob tells us about forgetting to pack his daily baby aspirin but using his iPhone to walk to a local pharmacy.  The cost for his meds is about 8 cents and he doesn't have the change.  The pharmacist tells him to "pay it when he drops by again."  Of course, that is not likely to happen by chance before they both have been through several more incarnations, so Bob makes a point of getting change at the hotel and returning to the pharmacy to settle his debt.

We speak a little of plans for tomorrow - tours are to be provided, but Lindy and I plan to relax at the hotel for the first half of the day while the rest of them see sights that are "old hat" for us.  But I get ahead of myself - time enough for that in tomorrow's post.  Suffice it to say, it is good to see familiar faces.

December 17, 2011 - Udaipur

It's luxurious to be able to stay at the same hotel for more than one night.  Today we get to tour Udaipur and return to our hotel, so there's no packing and unpacking today.

The breakfast is a bit noisy with all of the teenagers showing up.  Luckily, we arrived before them, so we got our food before the invasion.

Baba, our driver, in a conversation about health care, notes that the province of Rajasthan promises free ambulance service to all citizens within five minutes of a phone call.

We go on a tour of the town palace.  The maharana was quite a special guy, housing each of his 1600 wives in a separate room, and entertaining each one in his private quarters once every five years.  Perhaps because of her despair of waiting so long to see her beloved husband, one of the wives was said to have taken poison on a balcony one sad night.  Such is the history of the palace where portions of "Octopussy" was filmed.  Who is to say whether Bond or the maharana was the greater man?  Das, our 70-year old guide, is quite good at pointing out the peculiarities of the palace and showing me good vantage points for photos.  After our tour of the palace and its grandiose rooms, bee-hive hung outer walls, sun plaque, fine horses, elephant parking pads, mirror rooms, waiting hall swings for opium-smoking ladies of one-in-five-year nights, and pictures of water polo playing elephants we talk to a store owner who tries to convince me that suits can only be tailored well in New Delhi or his own store rather than Ludhiana after bragging that he, too, has appeared in a movie: "Drift".  Checking this out to possibly sign up for it on my Netflix streaming, I suspect that of the four listed films of that name, this is one about fly-fishing in various locales including India.  He finally relents his diatribe against tailoring in cities unfamiliar with tourist physiques when Lindy points out that we could hardly refuse the generosity and wisdom of our textile-business host in arranging for a custom-fit suit in his own city.  We escape that shop without purchase, but pick up a nice tie-dye scarf in another shop stop on the way out of the palace.  (The maharana continues to earn money through palace tour fees and ownership of several tourist attractions, including multiple hotels.)

The garden of the maidens provides a nice bit of green and water.

We drive around Lake Pichola, enjoying the views, but don't take a ride on the water until a less-traveled but overcrowded putt-putt takes us out to Nehru island in Fatehpur lake.  Unfortunately, Lindy has another encounter with a less-than-satisfactory public facility, and we return after a picturesque walk on the island to a pleasant afternoon lunch.  The restaurant has changed its hours since Lonely Planet listed it, and the kitchen closes at 3:00.  The waiter regrettably informs us that dessert is unavailable before offering me an espresso coffee.  I accept, but then he smacks his head and apologizes for that, too, being unavailable.  He leaves to get our check, but returns with my coffee anyway, and a subsequent bill.  As we leave, another couple is being seated for ... dining?

Jagdish Temple was dedicated to Vishnu in 1651. It is well carved, quite interesting, and the non-guide "practicing his English" gives us a little tour, encouraging us (unsuccessfully) to visit his local art studio on the way back. He does point out a worn area of a piece of marble near the entrance to the temple that has been used as a charm for aching backs.  Following his instructions, Lindy rubs her lower back, which has been troubling her a bit, seven times from left to right.  This should bring the attention of Vishnu to her plight and ease her discomfort. We pick up our shoes from the shoe guard who wants a tip (despite the lack of shoe guards and theft at any other temple) and take the waiting tuk-tuk back to our driver.

On the way back to our hotel, Baba stops to pick up his family.  His wife has been wanting to meet us.  When we arrive at the hotel, there is a chance for a little photo opportunity.  The children are shy, but the wife is happy to see us.  They are a beautiful looking family.  The baby girl keeps stealing a glance at her hard-working father.


At the hotel, we watch the evening's performance of an exotic dancer showing her ability to balance seven bowls on her head while dancing on the edges of scimitars and stomping on broken glass.

December 16, 2011 - Ranakpur and Udaipur

On the way out of Jodhpur, we pass by two painted elephants, walking down the road on the way (says our driver) to a royal marriage.

We talk some about the many colors of marble that are mined in Rajasthan.  Much of it is exported to Italy and France, but the biggest buyers currently are Saudi Arabia and other Arab countries.

Baba, our driver, gets to talking more than usual.  He talks about how the touring company he works for pays him 3000 Rupees a month, the equivalent of only $60 a month, or $2 a day.  The company does cover all of the costs of the vehicle and road tolls, but only pays him an additional living stipend of 100 Rp for each day of driving away from home - on this extra $2 a day he must pay for food and lodging.  ("Lodging" is usually a night spent sleeping in the car.  However, some hotels offer the drivers showers, inexpensive meals and spaces to park their cars.)

Baba was married when he was 14 years old to a girl who was twelve years old, a not too uncommon type of arranged marriage.  They did not start living together until he was 18 and she was 16, the legal age for doing so.  He is now 22 years old and has a 4 year-old son and a baby girl.  He was been telling us recently about calls home to find out how his girl is doing - she was not feeling well, but is now being treated for an ear infection.

On the way to Udaipur, we stop at Ranakpur temple.  This is a Jain temple carved in about 1500 A.D.  It is dedicated to the first Jain tirthankar, Adinath.  As Lonely Planet says, it is "an incredible feat of Jain devotion, ... a complicated series of 29 halls, 80 domes and 1444 individually engraved pillars."  I found it to be possibly the most inspiring sight we see in India.  The Taj Mahal is magnificent in its size and pristine beauty and symmetry.  It does not fail to impress.  But the exquisite carving and calming smoothness of the marble here are truly awesome.  I took many pictures while I was here, inspired as I was by detailed, unique carving, living trees sharing the space with the marble, devotees leaving behind flower petals, and priests chanting their devotions.  We explore the temple barefoot, and without my leather belt, as a

                     necessary sign of respect for the Jain's belief in ahimsa - harmlessness.

Continuing on up into the Aravalli Hills, we pass by several monkeys playing in the trees.  Some are hanging around close by the road, so Baba pulls over and starts letting us throw them some crackers.  I roll down the window for pictures, and to see a mother with its baby approach.  One over-eager monkey suddenly jumps over, grabs the top edge of my mostly rolled-down window, and flips onto the roof of the van.  I soon see a little monkey hand reach from the roof through the top of the window, begging for more treats.  Not sure he will be content to stay outside the vehicle, I quickly roll up the window to keep him away (being careful not to pinch his fingers).  We soon start slowly away until he jumps off and continue on our journey.

At the top of the hill, we stop for a pleasant lunch with a view of a treed valley.

On the way down, we come into view of Udaipur, sometimes called the most romantic city of India.  Udaipur was founded in 1569 by Maharana Udai Singh II as the new capital of Mewar after the Mughal emperor Akbar sacked the old capital.  A Maharana is recognized as one step up from a maharaja, and Udaipur is the only area sporting such a high rank of royalty.

After seeing some of the picturesque lakes that add romance to Udaipur, we take a windy dusty lane to an expansive hotel worthy of a movie set.  For a while, we think we may be the only ones at Hotel Udai Bagh, but later a whole covey of teen-agers arrive to enjoy loud dance music and an exotic performance with Rajasthani musicians.