In addition to textiles and silver we also saw some history of Jaipur. It has a fort, the Amber Fort, and actually attacked Jodhpur's fort (but lost).
We had the joy of taking a nice, smooth elephant ride to the top of the fort. i havent been on an elephant since I was probably six or seven (at the Garden Bros. Circus) and it was as fun but less scary than I remember!
We toured around this fort, also with an audio guide. Again I was blow away by the history represented. It is so neat to stand in the places where ancient Indian maharajahs lived. What I found most fascinating about this fort was the Sandalwood door. It had an intricate mosaic design created with marble pieces. Twas gorgeous, but the neat thing is that they took the design from this door and recreated it in the garden. The geometric patterns are identical! The second most interesting thing was the summer and winter palaces. The winter palace was below and was essentially an open concept square building in an open court yard. It was kept warm by drawing thick velvet curtains around it which ably trapped in the heat. Then it was covered in tiny patterned mirrors which helped reflect the heat. The summer palace was above the winter palace on second floor and was kept cool with special blinds that surrounded the palace, similar to the velvet curtains, that were continually made wet and, because of the breeze, acted like an air conditioner.
We then went to the five story palace in the city where the royal family used to live. Again, exciting history and architecture. What I most recall from this tour is that the Raja (king, essentially) had 31 wives and he'd sit on his perch and watch his wives hang out and interact in the women's court below. They were vying for status and ranking. Generally the oldest wife's son would be the next heir but the ranking of all the other sons was up for grabs. The sons positions depended on the effort and works of their mother.
After the palace we hit the bazaar/market. Holy stores Batman! There are narrow, dark alleys upon narrow, dark alleys. Literally one hundred fabric stores and some you had to clamour to enter. Personal space was not a great possibility here. I saw no stores, not a one, that sold female clothes. Not one. All fabric stores so they can make their own saris. Shopping here was a blast. When you enter a store, any store, we took off our shoes and went to sit down on a bench. The store owner sat in front of us on a wider surface (like a long bed) and sad cross legged. We told him what we wanted and he would grab it in every colour possible and lay it all out around and before him and within reach of where we were shopping. It is very relational, tactile shopping; a very refreshing shopping experience. Although part of their marketing ploy I'm sure, it is still interesting to be referred to as guests, not customers.
The pics below are not of the same alleys I described above...it is more of a Main Street, but India nonetheless.
India is hot. I hear Toronto had a hot spell so you can likely empathize but it is always hot here, all the time. This is not a complaint, merely an observation. We've relaxed on our dress code. Okay, I've always been this relaxed but Michelle and Teresa have relaxed a bit. Yesterday we were all wearing shorts. Now they were absolutely and positively to or last the knee, but they were shorts nonetheless. As we were in the market boy did we get looks and stares but only from a handful of men! (One very intentionally ran I to Teresa). We were mostly gawked at and laughed at by women and girls. And there were hundreds of sari wearing and black muslim outfit (can remember the name...hijab?) wearing women in this market. Bare legs are never shown. Hundreds. We found this whole fiasco side-hurting hysterical. The ladies would gather in groups (just like the church ladies on Little House on the Prairie) and blatantly look us up and down and up again and either roll their eyes, make faces or laugh. Some little girls pointed. Many were just fixated on our bare calves. They couldn't avert their eyes. It was great when the Muslim women in their full black garb would look at us. All we could see were their eyes but that was betrayal enough! We decided we'd turn this into a celebrity status thing. I started walking through the tight alleys saying, "hey! I am a Canadian and I have legs! Look! i have legs!" Not to make fun, just to make light. (Sidebar: although English is a national language many/most do not speak or understand it). Ladies and girls started saying hello and practicing their English on us. Wed say hello back and they'd sheepishly put their heads down. I felt like they just wanted to be acknowledged. So we made an effort to smile and greet people a lot. And look them in the eye: that was powerful. These ladies began to want to shake our hands or touch our arms. One lady in particular was hilarious. She was carrying a baby of a couple months and she walked passed us and, ever so subtly had her baby's skin graze against our skin: all three of us. Then she'd stop at a shop ahead of us until we passed and then walk by us and repeat. It happened more than twice. Interesting. Flattering? Honouring? I dont think so. The colour of my skin makes me no better than you. My presence/touch will do nothing for you or your baby. In actuality, it's sad really.
A couple sidebar stories from this shopping experience: I went into a store and the guy asked if I was African. Ill consider that a compliment. I asked another merchant if I could have the local price because I was Indian and my friends were white. He had a good laugh.
As we were shopping we came upon an I credibly cute Indian boy, maybe six, who had the cutest little stand. It was made out of crates and boxes and a slab of wood that his knees just fit under as he sat. Freaking adorable. So Teresa bought a plastic watch to support the cutie.
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