PROCEED TO THE PINK CITY… (Feb. 6)

After a full breakfast at Samode Bagh, we boarded the bus for a relatively short drive to Jaipur – the Pink City. We would be on the road for just under two hours, and the plan was to meet our guide at Amer Fort (also known as Amber or Ambar Fort). The last time I was in Jaipur was 2008, and our group was planning to visit and tour Amer Fort, as well. On the morning we arrived at the base of the road leading up to the fort, I recall it was about 10:30 in the morning. The waiting line to board our taxis wound around the entire courtyard, and if I remember correctly, it took well over two hours to get to the front of that line. This morning we arrived at about 9:30 and that made a huge difference. The line was not very long and within about twenty minutes we climbed the stairs to the loading platform. Our taxis were not your genuine Yellow Cab or in the case of most of India, the old Ambassador Cabs from more than a half-century ago. This morning, our taxis were elephants!

Brightly decorated elephants, covered with very ornate saddle blankets waited in their own lines, until called to the front for loading. The wooden basket saddles were constructed to hold up to four adults, but in recent years the drivers have been more considerate of the elephants and generally only allow two adults per ride. The rides are only to ascend the mountain because if one were to load up the basket with people coming down, the elephants could slip and lose their footing and cause accidents. In addition the drivers have also adopted a new policy, that the elephants can only work three hours a day in this routine of ferrying passengers to the top of the mountain at Amer Fort and are then taken back home to rest. This is far more humane than forcing six or eight hours of climbing and fully loaded.

PDG Chris Parkinson and I rode up together and as we ascended, the views became more spectacular. Looking out across the valley to the Aravali Hills (probably the oldest mountain chain in the world) and seeing distant fortress walls, one can not help pondering what life must have been like during the height of the time of the maharajahs. Jaipur seems to be a central location for when these men came to meet together from throughout all of Rajasthan. It is certainly the most glorious (or must have been) city in the area. Even today, the maharaja and his family live in the city palace and have for generations.

Riding up the winding mountain road atop our elephant, we also encountered several photographers who took many pictures of us. I had wanted to make sure that my grandson’s FREDDIE THE FROG was included in at least one picture so we were treated to two different sessions of photo-ops. The second photographer told us to make sure we met him at the bottom, near our bus, and told us his name was Laki, and not to forget it. Once we had all made it to the top, we climbed off our pachyderms and met off to one side with our guide, who provided a brief history of the fort. We then began our tour by climbing the ramp (they have added lots of handicap-accessible ramps this past year) to the top of the stairs. There, we were invited to enter a temple to view one of the gods and to offer prayers or simply remain in silence for a short while. A few of us accepted this invitation. It was the first time I had ever entered the temple, although I had visited Amer Fort a half-dozen times over the past years. The statue was actually that of a goddess, and was fully decorated and clothed, so all we could see was the face, which was black. There were priests behind what I would refer to as the altar rail, willing to sprinkle puffed rice or rose and marigold petals that people had brought to offer to the goddess. They also placed a garland around Pallavi’s neck and another around Dianne’s neck. They marked us all with tikkas on our foreheads, we remained for a few minutes and then exited to meet the rest of our group. Upon entering the temple, we were asked to remove our shoes, socks and any leather items we might be wearing.

Once outside and re-shod, we climbed further and entered through the old-fashioned turn-style and climbed a few more stairs. As we did so, we heard sounds that imitated beating drums. Once we entered that courtyard, we saw about one hundred women, of all ages, squatting on the ground, beating the surface with wooden clubs. These clubs looked somewhat like a flatiron with a handle extending from the back. The guide explained the commission responsible for the maintenance of the Amer Fort had determined the floor of this particular area had begun to seriously deteriorate, so first the surface was jack-hammered down about six or eight inches and then new sandstone mud (for lack of a better term) had been dumped into the void and spread evenly throughout the area. Rather than using a steamroller, the surface was tamped down or compressed using a method literally thousands of years old – having women beat on it with the wooden clubs. The racket drowned out some of what our guide was telling us, but it was fascinating to see how many people were employed in restoring this surface the old-fashioned way – first wetting it by sprinkling water and then beating it flat with the clubs.

We were shown ancient toilet facilities, and truly in India, the design has not ostensibly changed in hundreds of years. The formal gardens are being restored and re-planted. The hall of mirrors has been vandalized over the years, with tourists prying loose some of the pieces of mirror and stealing them. My recollection is that the mirrors were originally coming from Belgium, and it is to Belgium that the restoration commission has looked for replacing the missing pieces. At one time, guides could take their groups into the hall of mirrors, close the door and with one single lighted match could totally illuminate the room – just with the myriad reflections from one flame. This practice has also been stopped due to the sulfur and carbon deposits left on the ceiling mirrors, eventually destroying them. We wandered into the area where there was a rooftop swimming pool; we saw how the original cooling system was constructed and how it functioned; we were able to walk around in the area where the maharaja’s numerous wives had their own living quarters – each with it own private courtyard and sleeping rooms; we walked up to one tower at the corner of one section of the fort, where we were able to observe how the water-lifting system functioned; and when we were finished with the tour, we encountered all of the hawkers, selling trinkets and musical instruments, photos and drinks, silk paintings and postcards and books. Only after we were able to penetrate the crowd of tourists and hawkers, did we locate the Jeep taxis that would take us to the bottom of the mountain and to our awaiting bus. One the way toward the parking area for the Jeeps, a crowd had gathered on the steps and the sidewall. We heard the strains of a high-pitched flute and looked over the wall to see a snake charmer and his assistant, poking at two giant cobras that were facing each other. One tourist even sat down next to the snake charmer and had one of the two cobras lifted out of its basket and lowered around his neck. I determined it was time for me to leave and head for the Jeeps. Once at the bottom, the Jeeps took us to our bus, where guess who was waiting for me? You are right – Laki, the photographer. Chris Parkinson and I had already declined to purchase any of the photos taken by the first two photographers, but gave in and purchased all of them from Laki, especially since some of them showed FREDDIE THE FROG, that I can later post to the BLOG, once I located a scanner.

We boarded the bus and headed for the central city area, where we would be shown the process for block printing on fabric, as well as the various steps for the creation of oriental carpets. After those demonstrations, we were escorted up to a viewing room, where we were shown carpets of various shapes, sizes, colors and designs. Some were made of wool on a cotton base, while others were made from Kashmiri wool, and still others made of silk on silk – the finest available in the world. After this demonstration, we were invited to walk throughout the entire emporium, to see clothing, bedspreads, tablecloths, carpets, jewelry, paintings on silk, carvings from sandalwood, antique reproductions and more. Some of the group wanted to walk a block up the street to visit the Silver and Jewelry Manufacturing Company, where a vast selection of gemstones of different size and quality may be purchased loose or in specific settings. After this, we went to a garden restaurant that was close-by and had a wonderful lunch. A few of the group members chose to go out on their own for shopping the remainder of the afternoon, while others of us toured the City Palace and the Observatory. The Observatory in Jaipur boasts the largest compass and tracking devices, and “clocks” in the world, including the world’s largest sundial. It was fascinating to learn that the maharaja at the time of the creation of the Observatory, sent scientists all over the world to learn of the most current theories and practices regarding tracking of stars and planets. He then had models of various astronomical instruments made from iron, bronze and other metals. Finally, he had his builders construct the full-size instruments, which we saw. One such clock was accurate to within two seconds – and the instrument itself had a curved surface about forty-feet across. Through calculations as to the time where the instrument originated, and then adjusting for the different latitude and longitude of Jaipur, one could actually read the sundial and determine the correct time.

After viewing about a dozen of these massive instruments, we walked to the City Palace, which I indicated previously is occupied by the royal family – Maharaja Man Singh II, and his family. While we were in the courtyard of the four seasons, we actually saw one of his granddaughters and his grandson riding their bicycles in the courtyard and inside the portico. It reminded me of my grandson, “J.T.” and how he worked hard this past summer to learn to ride his bicycle without training wheels. We visited the general audience room where the maharajah sometimes uses for meeting dignitaries. We saw the portraits of the succession of rajahs, one who was nearly seven feet tall and weighed over six hundred pounds! You can imagine the size of his pajama bottoms, worn under a kurta. We visited the weapons museum and saw some rather unsavory looking daggers that were equipped with reverse scissor handles, so that when one plunged the dagger into the belly of an enemy, he could them open the manipulate the handles to open the dagger like an open pair of scissors and pull the opened weapon out of his victim, thereby tearing out a good portion of the enemy’s insides. We saw the giant silver jars – the largest single creation of silver in the world, that were created to hold holy water from the Mother Ganga (Ganges River), when the maharaja visited the Queen of England, but needed to bring his own drinking water supply with him. We were told that the queen was offended by this gesture, but the maharaja had quelled her disgust by telling her that he would do the same if he were visiting his sister, and since he considered the queen as a sister, he was only honoring her by bringing her water from Mother Ganga. We could perhaps use some of this skill among our own politicians of the day.

Just before we left (since the palace closes to the public at six in the evening) we watched a rather fascinating procedure – that of sealing of the various buildings and rooms. A gentleman brought a brazier with burning charcoal to the main door of the building in the center of the courtyard that is used for displaying clothing and other textiles. He held a rather large wooden paddle, at the end of which was a glob of heavy sealing wax. He also had two signets – one on a ring and the other like a stamp, both made of gold. I showed him my signet ring that holds my family crest and he showed me the ring and the stamp, each having its own design from the family of the maharajah. He even allowed me to push my ring into the sealing wax. When the building was confirmed to be empty, the doors were closed and locked and then a red string was wound in and around the padlocks. It was then tied and a glob of the hot sealing wax was applied and then the two different seals were pressed into the material. “This way,” we were told, “will ensure that if anyone breaks the seal, we will know that someone has broken into the building”. I offered to allow my ring to be added to the other two, but the offer was respectfully declined.

After leaving the City Palace, Dianne and I took a “tuk-tuk” (auto-rickshaw) back to the shop where we had watched the block-printing demonstration. She wanted to possibly purchase an outfit of clothing. Since work can be completed in such a short length of time, she was assured that her garments would be at the hotel no later than five in the morning, in plenty of time before we were departing the following day. We concluded our business there, walked up the street to another shop where Dianne had seen a carving of an elephant earlier in the day. She was purchasing the elephant for her son. The carving was of a decorated elephant, with a maharajah and his maharani riding in a basket on top.

We were driven back to our hotel, so we could meet the others and check in at the registration desk before dinner. Some of the team had achieved the ultimate goal of accessing the Internet, while others were pleased with their shopping. Several had purchased spices from local vendors while others had bought clothing or shawls. Dinner was once again delicious. Our rooms were inside a havelli (summer palace) at the former residence of a maharajah. The décor in the rooms was typical of Rajasthan, having a good deal of color and plenty of mirrors.
So much for today… it was on to Agra in the morning. Remember, do not pass “GO” and do not collect two hundred rupees.