Touring Rhajastan.

 

 

 

 I need to quote my friend Laurent Arnoldi here "India is the most photogenic country in the world".

It is not so much the country that brings us to this, but the people are mesmerizing. They love their photo being taken as much as they love taking photo's of us, they love asking us to take pictures of us as we of them. Everyone from whatever cast, rich or poor exhubes a certain pride when the camera is ready to snap. People will stop whatever they are doing when the light box is in front of them and, usually not to our preference, pose.

We left Bikaner after the kids had their introduction to an audio guide. I am not sure whether it's the pushing of the buttons, the following of the numbers, the sometimes boring story told for most part in a monotonous voice with far to much, to me useless details, or a bit of a mix that they love about this, but this experience was to be repeated a multiple of times on our visits.
Bikaner revealed to be no revelation at all if not that we were happy to stay in an old palace with proper showers.
Having said that the shower looked proper with eight sprays, the kind that start at knee height and end overhead. Once turned on the shower promptly spat in all direction wetting most of the bathroom but leaving me mere humid.
We arrived in Jaisalmer, the golden city. A lazy day at the pool followed the long car day from the previous day. Val went to town with the kids to see sole havelis while I obsessed on finding a solution for my online picture storage.
The afternoon was spent with me and the kids in the fort. Many a narrow alleys packed with shops selling everything and nothing. Djudjudj said he was staying behind with one of the shop keepers while I played dads usual game saying goodbye and hiding behind the corner. How my little one has grown for he never even looked up to see where I was, again I believe it has to do with this genuine goodness and kindness I have experienced and felt here.
So here I was back in the hotel, the chicken tandoori got angry with me eating him cause it was rebelling in my stomach big time. I went to ask for a thyme tea in the restaurant and wast feeling so bad I couldn't stay.
Mom and the kids in the restaurant what followed was a dance of yours truly from sitting on the toilet to kneeling in front of it and back, a dance I used to engage in often in the old days. Our desert camel trip was promptly cancelled on the next morning. Two sick adults me in the stomach, feeling a bit better thanks to the natural remedies I packed from home and Val coming down with a worsening infection in need of a doctor.

Johdpur a four-ish hours away would bring the solution.
Suncity hospital was quite an experience. First take out the dogs and cows and cow shit of the picture, then the sugar cane juicer, the hundred scooters and bicycles including their drivers waiting outside, the open pharmacy filled with people. Then widen the entry doors by ten. Imagine away the rainbow gowned women, the people walking around with printed positives of their x-rays. Now think away the large room partitioned by curtains where everyone is waiting for a doctor that never seems to come and the one doctors office a size of a pocket handkerchief. The bold overweight Jewish looking guy with a camera and the people posing in front of him, the male nurses aren't there either asking him to take a foutouuu of them. Add a few females working in the place and drench it in two zillion liter of antiseptic product and you have a resemblance of a hospital.
Having said that the personel was competent and Val got treated promptly after a few lab test were performed on the spot.
Gandaghar our driver (he really looks like Roger Federers' father) took us to a small guest house where we got a tiny clean room with a huge bed and an extra mattress. Some food at a hip restaurant and of to lala land we were.
Jojdhpur turned out to be better then we expected we visited the amazing fort of which the name escapes me with yet another audio guide, Djudj eager to tell us which number we should go to and press next.
The little market around the clock tower and the hectic main street with it's many a spice shops, the traffic the cows or horses, the scooters and carriages and the endless affluence of people boost no more noises nor business to shun our kids, they just trot along and between, hop out of the way and back on the road as if they were born here, the droppings however are harder to avoid.
Val getting better from the one infection came down with the tourista and all that goes along with it, Matthew is gradualy getting there too, it's seems that, dare I say it, Djudju's common sense in what he is and isn't eating seems to save him from unwanted distorted bowel movements. 

We let Val sleep before setting of to Ranakpur, got a huuuge suite in a nice hotel and maid the misses to rest while we took of to a Jain temple.

We were flabbergasted,, this temple built in marble had over one hundred pillars carved with hundreds of figurines.
Needles to say that the pillars provided Matt and Dudj of the necessary hiding spots. They played at, if dad gets a picture of our full face, we're dead, so here I am taking pictures of this temple while the kids are having a blast dodging the imaginary beams my camera is shooting at them.
On the way out an encounter of the monkeys and our bananas got the kids and the monkeys all excited.
Back at the hotel we went for dinner noticing there was no one in the hotel but us was kinda spooky yet allowed us to make noise as much as we wanted. The three of us played ball, blew balloons, manufactured rainbow colored umbrellas, and made things appear and disappear while waiting for the food and that only using imaginary objects, it allowed us to size and re size every ball we made, every balloon we blew or every stick we bent. Dudj dead tired went to bed before his food got there and Matt and I continued playing for a while before turning in.
We attempted to leave to the city of lakes at nine am, as we attempt to leave around that time every day since 7 months, in vain.
It seems ten thirty is our travel time.

From Palace to Palace with a wake up call in between!

I actually wanted to dedicate this solely to our experience in Bhanjara Basti but a little prologue is in order if only for the chronological order of my travel keeping's.
We lazed out after Holi for the whole day, a 'hang' day as we call it in our family jargon.
The next day brought us to visit the Amber Fort an amazing construction surrounded, if I am not mistaken by a nineteen kilometer wall. This fort was a play ground by excellence for the kids. Stairs and walkways, and more snail stairs and narrow corridors and passages.
An excellent vegetarian lunch a tali, assorted small tastes of different veggies spices and odors, a walk in the bazaar looking for nothing in particular, a piece of chocolate for the shoe shine kid, more content with the choc then the few rupees I gave him, and the stone dealers showing off what they have to sell to local merchants, and back to the hotel. We are looking forward and wondering where we are going to be tomorrow.

We contacted Madan, responsible for a volunteer project close to Sikar a little town hundred fifty kilometers North of Jaipur a place called VIA.

We arrived in the little village of Kanwar Pura, Hanuman our driver, dropped us of in front of a courtyard, light blue walls. An old man greeted us with slightly crooked hands from arthritis, pressed together. Madan the old mans son led us through the gate into a sandy courtyard, a few constructions in the back, kitchen stables, two houses, and on our left showers and toilets. I am being descriptive cause the place had something special about it, or was it what we lived the next two says that made it special.
The big courtyard was fantastic for the kids who found some balls a cricket bat and croquet clubs to play with. They hadn't discovered the computer room till the next day.
Madan led us to our rooms. Basic with beds made of wood and ropes for a frame, it reminded me of my teens in the kibbutz. The kids had their room next to us.
We were treated to a very tasteful lunch and Madan proceeded to explain what the project was about more on that later. We were also explained that the showers were to be taken from a bucket with a cup, hot water was made in a big double faced kettle with a whole in the middle where a fire was heating the water, it is done this way due to water shortage. One more thing to be said, the place was immaculately clean you could eat of the floor, well on a day without wind after sweeping the dust coming in from the sandy surroundings. Our neighbors consisted of cattle scattered around a smaller courtyard.
AVI is a volunteer based project started by Madan and a few Sweeds and Danish, to help settling nomad kids living in poor circumstances around Sikar. They provide board and food facilities for up to twenty volunteers at the time for a meager fee, and as added bonus you get workshops and discussions on local culture. Their aim is to be able in the long run to provide, through schooling a future to these kids.
What we did and saw was a very small facet of what help is brought here when more volunteers are around.
We were brought to Banjara Basti by tuk tuk, upon arrival some kids ran to meet us and just one look revealed the gravity of the living circumstances.
Upon touring the camp the one thing I Have noticed about India in general remained. Even here living in tents amidst the garbage, with virtually nothing but a couple of water taps, no basic hygiene and scraps for food people don't seem unhappy and portray to be resigned to their faith, almost as if having any expectations let alone hope would be dangerous.
The cast system is intricate in India and even here people of one cast don't mingle with others, to the point where, when enough volunteers are present, three schools are used because even the kids are not allowed to interact.
The kids are first gathered by going around the camp, then lined up (something they learn here) for washing hand and face (another thing learned here), then they are given a hearty meal (no food no one is interested in going to school), before they are divided in groups of learners and kindergarten.
These kids are unwashed, most of them have lice, most of the bigger kids, five to ten, are carrying their younger brother or sister, half naked grey, black with dirt, snotty faces, layers of dirt in their teeth, wounded, handicapped, unattended.
On the other hand the moms wearing colorful sari's, to contrast the dirt, silver bangles on their arms, jewelry from nose to ear, silver belts and anklets.
The older teenager looking sharp well dressed as if they had a role in some Bollywood movie keep on blowing up there chest saying one fotoo.
The dads together with the older boys playing cards, smoking drinking.
The old enough kids are ordered to go and sort garbage in town, carton, metal and plastic are worth some Rupee when sold for recycling. Whatever money they make is used by the men to furfill their needs or addiction.
One kid going to school till sixteen, could easily support the whole family, instead they are pulled away from education to do filthy chores, in order to fulfill daily priorities of the elders that lay elsewhere then any common sense dictates.
As I am writing this I feel,as if I am re-writing in a simplistic way parts of Oliver Twist or any grim story where the merry go round, unlike some passing by nomads installed for two Rupee a round, never ever stops.
Misery just keeps adding, especially if you are a woman.
The AVI project here seems like a needle in a hay stack but if you can change one life out of hundreds, isn't that what it's all about. Even if it just lightens the daily burden for a while.

I am in awe at what Madan and the volunteers are doing here, so much needs to be done.
I am proud of my family even if it did feel like voyeurism being there so short a time.
Julian and Matthew positioned themselves as helpers. They distributed food helped washing hands played and entertained the children, even if Djudju was bothered by everyone wanting to touch his blond curls.
Val with her gift to get kids attention was working her magic with the younger ones.
I guess that amidst the filth what struck me besides this seemingly acceptance of their faith was, the need for positive attention and I measure my words and use attention, because just that was enough to make those kids smile differently, more genuinely, just the fact that someone showed them attention and a little care.
We left this amazing experience by saying goodbye to Madan and his wonderfully welcoming family and continued to Bikaner to stay in a huge palace built by a Maharaja some hundred years ago, yet a mixture of feelings on everyone's mind.
I think no I know we have all grown from this and again I am especially proud of my kids for expressing their gratitude being here in this hotel and taking the time to share and recognize how lucky they are to be where they are, and taking time to place the situation of the kids in Banjara Basty.

   

-Banjara Basti pictures have their special place here- 

-I've added pics to my Mother India Album-

AVI website for those interested

Jaipur - Holi He Holi He

We arrived in the pink city, and going through the same process as in each airport of getting a prepaid cab, we were assigned Hanuman, who would become our driver for the days to come.
We arrived in our hotel, an old heritage palace, white marbled floors everywhere, a ancient demeure of some maharaja, exhausted by the trip. Traveling in India is easy but distances are incomparable to what we are used to.
The next day Hanuman took us to visit the old pink city, for pink it is, the walls of Jaipur stand pink all around it and no other color of construction is allowed within the walls.
The feel is different here less traffic then in New Delhi yet more beggars more people sleeping on the streets more dirt, cows walking around, open pavements, unfinished streets, traffic, bicycles, tuc tucs, wholes in the streets, sandy roads, yet an amazing atmosphere and beauty none the less.
We visited Jantar Mantar, the observatory, a set of fascinating astrological devices built about three centuries ago and capable of giving the time up to an accuracy of two seconds, astrological signs, calculating ascendants etcetera.
The city palace with its Guiness World Record Silver recipients, our small blond Maharadja acting out due to lack of sleep cut our visit short, nevertheless after buying Matthew a brand new pair of 'adidoss' for one Euro eighty Cents, we had an amazing meal at a vegan restaurants, in doubt of what to order we delighted ourselves with a thali.
A much needed siesta and of to the elephant show we went.
What seemed to be a full on tourist attraction turned out to be a blessing that would culminate tomorrow into an amazing experience.
We walked around the polo grounds looking at the colorful elephants some with painted nails others dressed in jeans others still with a young kid dressed up as a Maharadja on its back. Some people were fully painted in color a sign of the start of the Holi or festival of colors. We avoided being colored for at least ninety minutes until........ .

An eclectic mix of foreigners from all over the globe and Indians, elephants, costumes, music, and colors, smiling eyes and faces all over, one of the two pictures you took someone was asking for a baksheesh for letting him take your picture while the poorest would let you take their picture for free. One common thing amongst anyone you take a picture of here being it the upper class or the street bum, they are all proud when you ask them to take a picture of them.

Amongst the crowd and us being far beyond trying to stay uncolored we met Mookesh (forgive me if I spelled it wrong) and his family after talking to them for a while and the kids playong together Mookesh promptly, out of the blue, invited us to share Holi with them the next day at their house. We exchanged phone numbers, well I took his and without getting comited we told him we would call and let him know.
People a the hotel had warned us about Holi being dangerous outside of the hotel so we were apprehensive about meeting up with Mookesh, not so much about the family but about the whereabouts the food we would receive, the water, the getting there, the coming back, the drunk people on the road......., a bunch of excuses based on fear partially made up by our wild imagination partly due to the hotel staff probably wanting us to stay in for consumption reasons.
We decided to go ahead and do what I was dreaming of meet an Indian family and getting invited for Holi.
I am a firm believer that things don't just happen and thus if this man invited us on an event in the middle of a crowd of thousands this must be something of significance.
To go even a step further into how the wheel of faith sometimes just runs like a clock our taxi driver whom I told yesterday to spend Holi with his kids insisted on picking us up this morning.

So of to Mookesh and his family we went dressed in white, perfectly white immaculate pants and shirts.

We where greated by Mookesh and the family as if we were family,

the kids got instantly sprayed with colored water, we received a more modest welcome by mens of color being aplyed on the forehead and a hug, before being smeared much les modestly all over the face with color. The purple colored corn flower we had brought looked pale next to the fuchsia, neon green, crimson read and safran yellow already there.

What went on next was beyond what we expected. Everyone proceeded for the next three hours in smearing eachother with colored powder spraying each other with colored water, hugging, each other, blowing powder on each other basically making a mess a colored mess. All this in joy and happiness and fun, kids on adults, kids on kids, no matter how old or young. You can do anything on Holi it is ok you will be forgiven.
The neighboring kids coming In and out to play Holi. Matthew was going bananas with the other kids and Djudju took a while to get used to the craze but joined it after a while never the less.
We started feeling like geese being stuffed with food from the day we arrived, all kinds of salty and sweet pastries, samosas, spongy sweet cakes, spicy drinks. I told Mookesh we would roll back out of the house if he continued stuffing us.
The color playing toned down and we continued talking while the kids were jumping of the cupboards on to the bed having a blast.
The women dissapeared into the kitchen to come out with a feast of a meal, everything was delicious, the rice the curry the potatoes the poori a mixture of smells and taste a real feast.
We left this Indian family and all of us got really emotional, we were welcomed here nothing short of family and I believe that we accepted and were open to that in such a way that we realy fell like family when we left. I never had the feeling we just met a few hours ago amongst a crowd of many just out of the blue.
Again my believe in a higher power and a greater good is reinforced through the kindness of this man who took us in to celebrate Holi the Festival of Colors as one family.

!!!Holi He Holi He !!!









For pictures of Mother India through my lens click here...

Kerala, Joana, Luca, Juna

We left Delhi for Kochi, more precisely Fort Kochi, a small coastal village in Kerala that holds a particular charm beauty and a definate more zen feeling than Old Delhi, well anything is more zen then Old Delhi.
Our friends joined us there for what was to be a wonderfull week together. They arrived in the morning after a good twelve hours of travel and how on earth they managed to stay awake for the rest of the day still remains a mistery. As a result little June got feverish for a few days but nothing dramatic.
The hotel we were supposed to stay at didn't have any rooms left so they put us up in a little annexe around the blck resulting in us staying in an art deco looking house with four bedrooms, two on top, two below, all for us.
The kids could scream and shout all they wanted without bothering any one.
I got up on the first day early and did a sunrise yoga on the roof top, amazing.
Not as we were expecting yet as we were told Kerala in general is pretty clean (Indian standards).
The food though being adapted for tourist, and I dare anyone eating medium spicy here, was excelent.
Beeing at the see a lot of fish and squid freshly caught. One restaurant even went to the market to buy there fish every time someone ordered.
Kochi has it's Chinese fishing net dominating part of the shore and a few historical places amongst which a synagogue which we failed to visit due to shabat and our kids being tired.

Oh yes a little something about us leaving Delhi.

We arrived at Delhi airport on time but couldn't get into the airport, you are not alowed in an airport in India without a written proof of some kind saying you have a ticket, a copy on an electronic device isn't enough, you need a hard copy printed on a piece of paper or you don't get in the airport. Further, you are not allowed through security without a tag on your bag, that tag is then stamped or tagged so that before you board the plane if your tag has been ripped of you are not allowed to take your handbag on the plane, need I say more?

It sure was great seeing the van Pratovicz family, it is always a bit like coming home when you are on a long trip and someone close to you hops in.

A few days in Kochi a few walks and eats later we got a car to Allaphooza and after visiting a few house boats of we were on this thirty meter floating house with all comforts on board. Three rooms each en suite a deck, sun deck a crew of three and a kitchen for a few nights on the backwaters.
The trip started out disappointingly as we traveled as if on the circular road of a town in queue amongst other vessels. Thirty minutes later we stopped for lunch, our cook had prepared some typical Kerala dishes, with more success to our palates then the kids. We traveled on to be alone on the backwaters no one in front no one behind but the occasional raft crossing the river, a few kids swimming, a lady slapping her laundry on a rock, a man soaping himself and washing himself (with underpants and longhi's on) or a fully dressed woman washing her thick long black hair, the river serves purpose to many a thing here.
I am wondering if I should take a swim.
Julian is having a blast with June, Matthew is an angel though you can sence some sadness, after all it is his brother who got the privilege of having a friend over.

The backwaters are of a stunning beauty the calm, the endless views, the turquoise kingfisher fleeing as the boat approaches revealing it's electrical turquoise colored back, the cormoran perched on a single branch, springing from the bottom of the river, wings wide opened to let them dry, the breeze of the moving house boat allowing the temperature to be bearable and sunrises and sunsets in colors I didn't know where possible. Ok ok not all is positive, the thousands of insects on you as soon as the sunlight dims is a downer but what a small price to pay for all the beauty experienced here.
The few stops we did in the riverbank villages were enlightening, peoples faces are smiling here the contrast of the white teeth on the black skin only accentuates the welcome that faces extend.
In one village we even got invited for an evening meal as we were watching a fish being beheaded, we politely refused. A little later after church the women came out we were or should I say the kids were touched and pinched and tickled as we were led back to our boat by the crowd going the same way, all that again with smiles and laughter.
Visiting the Indians here is being visited by them in return.
Did I swim in the backwaters........?

We continued on a after 3 days on the backwaters to Kovalam, ended up in a clean but aged hotel, before moving for three days in an Ayurvedic resort.
People come here for one or more weeks to cleanse there bodies from the inside by ways of specific diets and massages, yoga and meditation. Ayurveda is supposed to have beneficiary effects on various diseases amongst which cancer.
A little word on the massages. I was seated on a wooden stool in a room that resembled what I pictured as a Cuban torture chamber in a prison. A cow covered mattress on the floor and a wooden massage table, a rope hanging from the ceiling. Before the massage begins you are asked to strip, the therapist (in my head the torturer) a tiny man with a Sadam haircut and moustache. He proceeds in rubbing your body in oil after giving you a vitalizing scalp massage (think hard and strong) then opens up the mattress, takes a few rags of the brown paper bag he had brought in and proceeds in attaching them to the rope. You are then instructed to lay face down on the cow hind.
Then it starts..., my executor hangs himself to the rope and starts to forcefully rubbing his feet
with long strokes on me, ass to left hand cross to right foot back to right hand cross to left foot.
Ten minutes later you are turned arround and the same starts all over. A pretty intense experience, not the most pleasant massage I have had, yet an experience not to miss set in a surrounding different what I was used to, not your average spa experience.

With Vals birthday coming up we moved to a 'chiquer' hotel to celebrate and a few days later left the v
avn Praets behind to move to Jaipur.

Very curious about the more 'rough' India and the 'Holi' festivities we move on to the pink city.