Off the Well-Worn Tourist Trail for a Day

"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined." -Thoreau (props to Dad for the inspirational quote)

Enter through the Sanganeri Gate. Resist the urge to walk straight along the main road toward the Hawa Mahal and the touristy shops. Take an immediate right. Lose yourself for a moment in the unexpected and out-of-place crowd surging into a bazaar on a Sunday. Remember yourself again when you catch a number of locals staring, calling out "Hello! How are you?" Notice only locals' faces around you and deduce that videshis must not frequent this market. Look left and right. See everyday wares--the plastic buckets, bangles in clear cellophane wrappers, piles of men's button downs, packages of steel wool, striped underwear bound with rubber bands--instead of the usual Rajasthani themed souvenirs. Lose yourself again in the crowd...

In case you haven't picked up on this little detail yet, I like finding pockets of India (well, just Rajasthan for now) in which tourists haven't yet left their mark. It's in these places that I get the most stares, but it lets me feel less like a tourist and more like a traveler. I know I'm only here for two months, but unlike the majority of tourists, I am here with the sole purpose of learning the language and culture, which is difficult to do when I'm just another face in a flock of 35 Americans being shown the polished, upper class side of Jaipur. 

Today I set off for the Old City with one of my friends, Sara, and we found ourselves in the unpolished bazaars and side streets of Jaipur. It was wonderful, exhilarating, and actually a little nerve-wracking at times. We encountered so many characters:

A man wearing all purple who, to be sure we saw him, jumped in front of us with his hands out on either side of his head like moose antlers and said something along the lines of "Ah!"...A boy selling bangles who didn't know to give us the foreigner price (100 rupees, everything everywhere is 100 rupees if you are a foreigner), but instead gave us the Indian price without any bargaining on our part. Can you even imagine?!...A man who stopped us to ask us in accented English where we were from. Sara promptly replied, "Germany," to get him to leave us alone, and he immediately switched to a similarly accented German...Another man who came up to ask if Sara played basketball (bahut lambee! he says)...And of course, the hordes of kids that look up at us wide-eyed and wave or smile bashfully, tugging at their mothers' sarees...

It's tricky to negotiate how to respond to the characters we meet. So many people look, call out, somehow try to get our attention all the time. I could never respond to everyone, and it's often wise to not respond to certain people. But I spent the first few weeks shutting myself down to the people around me because that is what I was told to do. Today, as I have been in the practice of doing lately, I let myself be open. And it felt very good to actually meet eyes, hear the blend of Hindi and English, return the smiles of little children...

To my delight, Sara and I decided we had managed to find the Muslim section of the city. We kept passing men selling the hats Muslim men wear on the crowns of their heads and books in both Hindi and Urdu with Islamic themes. We stumbled upon three of the most beautiful masjids I've ever seen. I was under the impression that masjids in the city were few and far between...and mostly disguised. But that was just not the case at all. I had my touristy moment for the day and stopped to take a picture.

Here in Jaipur, instead of the lone minaret that towers above all surrounding buildings that I saw on each mosque in Morocco, the masjids have two rounded towers framing the building. I think I could lose myself studying the architecture of all the different religious buildings here. Whether Muslim, Hindu, Jain, or Sikh, people do not mess around when designing the intricacies of their houses of worship. 

Anyway, Sara and I did some shopping but mostly explored until we both reached our limit of heat, sweat, and crowds for the day. We actually used Hindi. Well, she successfully used her Hindi and I attempted...my accent is still not very good. And I feel like I saw the most honest picture of the culture here yet. I am going to make a point of getting out of my CLS and Raja Park bubbles because this new picture of Jaipur is much more the life I have imagined than the one on which I currently reside.

Three Videshis Walk Into a Mosque...

Sunday has become my day of independence. In this world I have entered, everything is planned for me. I'm told when and what to eat, how to study Hindi best, how many hours a day I should spend on the Internet, what clothes I should wear, not to take autorickshaws (that's a joke)...I crave independence.

This past Sunday, I ventured into the old city with a few friends (Coco, Luke, Katie, and Kate...although Katie and Kate didn't stick around for the full adventure) with the goal of finding a mosque, a mundir, and an authentic restaurant (perhaps even one with meat...scandalous, right?). We wandered into the chaos and found a shopkeeper who could direct us to the Jama Masjid. He quickly pointed out the white towers straight ahead of us that we should walk toward and then tried to get us to come into his jewelry store. Traveler's advice: gem scams are common in Jaipur..just say no. 

When we got to the mosque, it was fairly deserted and under renovations, but almost immediately, an English speaking shopkeeper appeared to show us around, make sure the fans and lights were on for us, and even have the caretaker take us up to the locked up roof so we could have a view of the city. It was a moment of undeniable white privilege, but I was glad for the cultural exchange and to finally see the inside of a mosque after two weeks of looking at closed doors in Morocco. I hope our interest came across as genuine and that we were able to break away from the stereotype of loud, ignorant Americans. It was beautiful and I was grateful for their hospitality. I hope to return on a Friday or during an adhan (call to prayer). 

Afterwards we wandered for awhile looking for a particular mundir only to discover it closed at noon. I am not sure why but we moved on and discovered an empty mundir for Kalki (another name for Krishna) that was 350 years old. Another random shopkeeper gave us a tour and then took us to his shop where he tried to convince us to buy kurtas, naturally. This is how it goes in India. You just say you'll tell your friends about his store and then quickly leave. Anyway, back at the mundir....the only other people there were the family that lives there. We met a woman and her two sons who were, curiously to me, just living out their lives in the shadow of this beautiful stone mundir. At the mundir they often have yoga and free classes for people in the community. It was a great find, tucked away off the street and wonderfully desolate. 

Hunger struck and we made our way to the Ganesh Restaurant, which Coco had read about online. Our directions were vague and promising: it was located between two tailor shops on the city wall near the New Gate and up a hidden staircase. Miraculously, we actually found it. And it was amazing! We ate such authentic food and it was so refreshing to not be around other videshis. After we ate, we sat on the roof of the city wall and watched the pigeons across the street, enjoying the quiet. It seems so improbable to find a haven of peace in the bustling city where every shopkeeper calls out to me, "Come inside, madam. Come looking. Beautiful kurtas. Best prices. Madam, excuse me!" The sun wasn't unbearably hot and it was a moment of pure relief. Essentially, my favorite moments here are when I find quiet peace. I was sad to dive back into the chaos and attempt to find a rickshawala who wouldn't try to rip us off, but we did anyway. And we were pretty successful, which always feels so good. Just ask for the Indian price in Hindi...that helps a bit. 

Exhaustion struck like the dust storms that precede rain here--unexpected and overwhelming, leaving your eyelids heavy and burning. And I got the best nap ever. 

Happy Sunday to me.