Blog Posts

Pictures must wait

1/25/2015

(For some reason, this blog app stalls out when I try to load pictures from the Jat village so that will have to wait.)

I am writing at the end of our second full day in Jaipur. We visited the Amber Palace about 45 minutes away, complete with elephant rides (I did not partake), monkeys grooming on the rooftops, and an amazing mirrored reception hall. Then onto the Anokhi museum of hand block textiles -- wonderful display. After a stop at a tourist trap for custom tailored clothing ($75 for 2 pairs of pajama bottoms... I don't think so!) we went on to the Anohki flagship store and cafe for lunch in downtown Jaipur. This is where I start to get bitchy.

First of all, we are operating on Indian time so "lunch" is at 3:30, blood sugars are running low, and there are no tables. I finally get in line behind this 30 something willowy lady with bohemian elegant clothing who declares that this is the best place in India to eat a fresh meal. Oh, I ask, where to you live? She's here from Delhi for the lit fest, she tells me. So how did you happen to settle in Delhi? "Oh, I'm just living an interesting life." REALLY, DID SHE JUST ACTUALLY SAY THAT?! How incredibly clever of her! I so wish to shove the organic hummus down her asymmetrically cut linen tunic and then go back to the moderatly ordinary life I'm living. Namaste, beyotch!

All this said, getting acquainted with this small part of India through this tour has been positive and instructive. If I had tried to come here on my own, I would probably have ended up hiding in my hotel room for at least a week. Our leader has hired amazing local guides, provided both linguistic and cultural translation. I would definitely recommend it.

I'll continue to (try) to post pictures and more narrative to round out this journey. We have another day of village visits yet to go. Today's visit to Kaladera for a block printing workshop was extraordinary. Stay tuned!

3 Comments

Dhordo

1/23/2015

1 Comment

Sofia's daughter flying away

Earthquake damage

Sample of Sofia's work

Mosque

1 Comment

Inner Princess

1/22/2015

1 Comment

It's a little embarrassing to admit how thrilled I was to check into the Sheraton last night. How wonderful it felt to take a long steamy shower, to slide into a soft bed. We have been staying in nice places, interesting places and I have no complaints. Compared to the albergues on the Camino, it's all been luxury. Admittedly that's not setting the bar very high but still. Everything here at the Sheraton is clean, neat and unremarkable. Maybe it's the plain unchallengingness that is such a relief from the hyperstimulating environments we've been in.

On the long bus ride back to Ahmedabad from the coast, our bus developed a mechanical issue and we spent several hours at a truck stop before flagging down a private Indian bus for the final hour's drive where we were deposited at a local bus station. In order to get to the Sheraton we piled by threes into tuk tuks, three wheeler scooters made into open air buggies. Tuk tuks zoom amidst the cars, busses, bicycles, dogs, and pedestrians honking incessantly and coming within inches (or centimeters if you want to be metric about it) of them. It is unnerving and like all the passenger experiences here, you're much better off practicing detachment. They say to drive in India you need 3 things: a good horn, good brakes, and good luck.

We are headed to the airport to fly to Jaipur for the final leg of our tour. Lots of textiles ahead!

1 Comment

White Desert

1/22/2015

0 Comments

More pictures

1/22/2015

1 Comment

Two Villages

1/21/2015

1 Comment

Tuesday was the high point of the trip so far. First a visit to Dhordo, one of the northernmost villages in Kutch where a community of Muslim shepherds (Muthawa) resides to visit a master embroiderer, Sofia. In this tradition-bound area, we were warned to ask permission before taking any photos and to never photograph the women. We spent more than an houris Sofia's home where she showed us how the small mirrors this area's textile are so famous for are secured and embellished -- as well as a sampling of other traditional stitches. As we watched, we asked her questions about her life, her husband, her children... with Shila (our tour leader) translating from Gujarati. (She was remarkably candid but asked that we keep everything in confidence...of course she knows we live far, far away but clearly there could be a penalty for such candor.) All the while, various groups of village children came to the door to examine us and even smile a bit. They rarely see Europeans. All the while ine the courtyard outside, Sofia's 13 year old daughter was on a metal glider swinging it as hard and as fast as it would go. Wrapped in a shawl as all females are, you could see the bright pink earbuds and wonder what she was listening to -- her eyes were somewhere else as swinging harder and higher would get her there sooner. Sofia said that she had no interest in learning embroidery, she intended to go to the city because, as she told her mother, she has "options."

The next village we visited consisted of the Jat community, Muslim herders of prized buffalo. As our bus pulled into the village, our driver Raji, immediately jumped out of his door and into the arms of the awaiting village greeter. With tears in their eyes, the embraced warmly for some time, stopping every now and then to look in each other's eyes. Later the story was told: Raji was born into a Rabari community of Hindu herders and as a 10 year old boy, he had met and become friends with a Jat boy who now happened to be a village leader.. They had not seen each other in over 20 years... this was their first reunion. The village elders, when we were having tea and examining textiles, told us that Raji is the brightest of 1000 stars and proof that there is no difference between Muslim and Hindu. Touring their post-monsoon encampment was fascinating and delightful as children followed us around and then scampered away screaming when we "spied" them, only to repeat the game over and over again with giggles. (Truth be told, some of the tiny children were frightened to tears by these pale interlopers and others tried to pull their mothers away.)

After a stop for lunch, we headed south to the beach at Mondvi where I am writing this. We are in a peaceful seaside resort, quite and serene, sleeping in elegant tents and enjoying western plumbing. It's good to have a quiet day. Tomorrow we drive all day to return to Ahmedabad and I will try to post some photos there -- assuming the Sheraton has decent wifi.

1 Comment

Extraordinary Days

1/21/2015

0 Comments

Our visit in and around Bhuj included several impressive textile cooperatives with wonderful stories of village traditions preserved and lives improved. Of course, there were many gorgeous textiles to buy. Our local guide, Kuldip, arranged for me to see the bandhani dealer I had met at the Santa Fe International Folk Art Market. Lots of beautiful scarves!

From Bhuj we traveled north to the Great Rann (desert)of Kutch where herding animals is the principle way of life among the many communities (tribes). Mexican acacia was introduced in the area many decades back and it has become invasive, dominating the vast, flat landscape. Fortunately the goats and camels are able to eat the acacia leaves; there is a rough ground cover for the buffalo and sheep. After checking into our desert accommodations of exquisite mud huts (I am not being facetious here, as photos will attest at some point) we drove further north, through both police and army checkpoints to reach the white salt desert, 70 miles from the Pakistan border. We arrived in time to walk across the springy white surface that seemed endless towards the setting sun. With tourists getting camel rides, groups of women in colorful saris milling around and drums beating in the distance, it was one of those experiences that transcend time. With a hazy sky losing color, the horizon line blended into it, creating a dreamlike three dimensional vastness. After dinner back at the resort, some local musicians came to perform around the fire pit. It was indescribable -- more reminiscent of some melodic African songs than the music I associate with India. I fell asleep in my hut under several quilts listening to the gentle drumming.

0 Comments

Pictures without captions

1/18/2015

1 Comment

Just trying to see if I can get something loaded...

1 Comment

Arrival in Bhuj

1/17/2015

3 Comments

We've had two long days in the minibus to get to the district of Kutch in northwestern Gujarat. The night before last we spent on the edge of the Rann Desert after visiting two spectacular step-wells, an 11th century sun temple, and a double ikat handloom facility. This 9th generation family if weavers is one of only two remaining families still producing double ikat. It takes up to 6 months to create the 6 meters required for a sari. The technique and precision is breathtaking -- and the results are amazing.

We visited a Jain community center for lunch. The Jain are very similar to Hindus. Among the similarities I understand (because of lunch) is vegetarianism; they differ in that they will only eat food that grows above ground -- so no onions, potatoes, garlic, etc. For the meal, diners sit in long rows at stainless steel tables set with metal dishes. Servers come with different foods that they deposit on your plate as they move down the row -- kind of like a cafeteria line in reverse. The food is very filling. (I'm leaving room for interpretation here.) My appetite still hasn't returned and it hate to be wasteful but with being sedentary, it's not possible to finish.

Arriving at the eco hotel for the night was an amazing treat. Not only was it beautiful -- it was quiet! I could hear birds and the occasional breeze sweeping through the bushes. Dinner was wonderful and I slept deep and hard. (The malaria preventive I'm taking is famous for stimulating bizarre dreams. Mine aren't particulary srtange but incredibly busy. Last night my name was tapped to become Hilary's vice presidential candidate. Bill thought it a great idea whereas she was pissed. Before I woke up, I had decided that I wasn't going for it but would use the moment to press for a different nominee...)

Kutch is the center for many textiles and a comparatively prosperous area... few families living on the street, less garbage, fewer and healthier dogs. We visited an embroidery village and then saw a woodblock printing facility -- both very interesting. At this point, all but two of the group are or have been sick -- and that includes our leader, Shila. In addition to the viruses, we share symptoms, remedies, and sympathies very generously.

3 Comments

Awake in Ahmedabad

1/17/2015

3 Comments

Among the 12 of us it seems that each morning only 3-4 report having slept well and it's not the same group. Some of it I think stems from not getting much exercise. Then there's the sensory overload. Then there are the various ills: The chest thing I am finally recovering from is making its rounds; there are different versions of gut troubles. But mostly I think it's the sensory overload. I remember my friends from grad school who lived in Dehli for several years working for the State Department in the 80's telling me how US visitors would arrive exhausted and dazed at their doorstep after traveling in country for several weeks, needing to hide out and decompress.

Ahmedabad, as Indian cities go, is not that old. The oldest part of the city dates to the 15th century and consists of pols, walled neighborhoods comprised of the households of different professions organized around courtyards and a maze of passageways. Most doorways lead to individual homes but some lead to doors that connect to the adjacent. Since most buildings are 3 stories high, it was impossible for me to get oriented. After walking through 4 different pols we came to a stairway that opened onto a vast (at least 2 baseball diamonds) open air mosque in complete contrast to the surrounding warren if passages. I'll post pictures later -- they take forever to load.

A couple of women in our group have been to India numerous times. One has told me that even she's finding Ahmedabad challenging -- the smells, the pollution, the crowding. She tells me that the villages and towns are easier. I am having a hard time with India. Seeing families living on the sidewalk, babies playing naked in the city gutters, hearing dogs howling after being struck by scooters, stepping over piles of garbage and all manner of fresh shit. There is clearly more to India than the life you see on city streets but it's not so easy to see. And, to be fair, the people I see do not appear to be abject or miserable. I am bringing my own biases about fairness into the equation and it does not help the India experience.

Gandhi spent 15 years in Ahmedabad, founding his ashram on the shore of the river and developing his philosophy of passive resistance and non violence. His home has been preserved and an incredibly moving museum has been erected. In light of the proliferating brutality in the world, I found reading his words very emotional -- how much was gained through his actions and teachings and how much has been lost.

This beautiful hotel is a converted mansion. It is exquisite. Some of the rooms are connected to one another by beautiful wooden doorways that, while are now bolted shut, allow free flow of sound. Given how much street noise and incessant honking there is, it's not much of an issue. However in the wee hours when the traffic recedes and there's a break in the call to prayer from the mosque across the street, neighborly noises are noticeable. Maybe even a little reassuring. So here I am trying to get back to sleep when my neighbor farts. Not just a friendly little toot but a full on howitzer blast that was repeated in several different octaves with incredible volume. Believe me, I come from a gassy family and we would need megaphones (no, microphones!) to compete. Honestly, though, I have to admit some envy -- my neighbor must've felt terrific afterwards.

Trust me to always work in a fart story.

3 Comments

<<Previous

Forward>>

Pictures must wait

Dhordo

Inner Princess

White Desert

More pictures

Two Villages

Extraordinary Days

Pictures without captions

Arrival in Bhuj

Awake in Ahmedabad

Author

Archives

Categories