Jaipur

Jaipur is different from other parts of India. It is more intense…less spiritual and more material. The feeling here is a response to my senses. The colours of the buildings and the products being sold all over the city startle my perceptions. Sounds on the street blend with the visual stimulus and complete the experience. It is the Jaipur of the pictures I have seen in my life on posters and in books. It is, in fact, like a movie that I have become a part of.

Walking on the elevated sidewalk, I am careful to avoid stepping in the human feces that cluster in piles along the path. Smells of urine along the way, remind that men live not far away, perhaps lying directly in my path. As the city awakens, outside grills begin to burn, preparing samosas and chicken tikka kabobs for fast food satisfaction. Deep fried sweet treats, warm from the deep vats filled with oil, emit a tempting aroma.

The temples and forts and palaces dominating specific areas are also not exempt from the consumer bug. I make regular attempt to veer away from the shops and the merchants as I walk through the buildings. The Amber Fort, spectacular in its design, and its energy, completely inspires my imagination. The courtyards open to gates that lead to private palaces of the kings and several pavilions and halls offer me a chance to pretend. I imagine the Raj community living here five thousand years before. The Kama Sutra, the first publication of sexuality began here! 

I love to find myself immersed in those daydreams. So, no wonder, I get disturbed when a young man approaches me with  “Ganesh made from rosewood?” he says. “How much?” I ask (stupid me!) “1200 rupees”. “1200 rupees!” I shout. “That’s crazy! I just bought one for my son!” “How much then” he asks following me right out the door. “I’m not interested” I say annoyed. “800 rupees” he retorts. By the end of the interaction, he had reduced the Ginesh to 200 rupees. That’s ridiculous! Don’t think it didn’t cross my mind to go back and grab it! But I didn’t want to feed that behaviour.

  Jaipur is a city of consumerism and we completely got sucked into it. Here one can buy precious and semi-precious gems for near to nothing. Silk carpets created by human hands are intricately woven by villagers who have lived with the process so long that they don’t even need to refer to a template. They understand how to design and produce incredibly ornate carpets from memory.

Today Paul and I visited a carpet shop. We met the weavers who are descendants of carpet weavers. Each strand of silk or camel hair is intricately woven in to the design. With a machete like knife, every strand of wool is carefully cut. The designs are absolutely fantastic. The work is completely unique and magical. I’ve never thought of a carpet as an emotional object! Watching the energy with which the weavers work, made me realize the commitment and sweat that is shared through the art.

I think about all the ‘things’ available to buy. If you don’t find what you’re looking for in one stall, it will definitely show up just down the road. And simply walking down that road can be a challenge! With such a high concentration of people, and incredible pollution, breathing can become difficult. Rickshaw drivers, tour guides, merchants, anybody with something to sell make walking through the streets almost unbearable for me.

“See my shop, ma’am.” Calls a dark-skinned older man, as he hurries to walk beside me. “Cheap, cheap. Good prices. No buy. Just come and look.” “No thank you.” I reply.

“Please just to look. Come drink chai. No buy. Just look.”

“No, thank you”, I say just a bit more emphatically, this time with my hands clasped at my heart in the form of ‘namaste.’

“Just one minute!” he perseveres.

At this point I turn around to face him. I clasp my hands at my heart. “Sir” I say firmly, “No thank you. Namaste. Have nice day.”

I’m learning how to get along here. It has taken some time, and, quite frankly, I wouldn’t want to live here and be doing this all the time, but I am figuring it out. There is a firmness that’s necessary; a respectful assertiveness that acknowledges my own needs as well as theirs.

In the pink city of Jaipur, life is all about money. For many, seeing a western couple walking down the street, signals dollar signs. My challenge is maintaining a sincere respect for people who view others as anything but human. And I also know that talking to one another is a powerful way to work through these misconceptions. People who I talk to on the street become interested in who I am, and know, too, that I’m interested in them. We become more like each other, because in the end, we find the similarities that connect us. “Do you have children? What do you do in your country? What do you think of India? Tell me about your family” are all topics that arise instantly and easily on the street. India is teaching me to take the time to listen and also to not be afraid to share ‘my story’ as well.

By the way, we are not leaving Jaipur unaffected! We bought an enormous amount of those ‘things’ while here. Carpets, bedding, precious stones and many treasures to share with friends and family back home. We even needed to buy another bag to carry it all!